Taken

I have an irrational hatred of Liam Neeson.  The famed actor known for his stoic Irish presence in a myriad action flicks.  I fucking hate you Liam Neeson.  You are a taker.  You set a girl up with all of these expectations, like who you are as a person is truly unique and awesome.  You are none of these things Mr. Neeson.  You appear to be sexy as all get up...you're intelligence and calm demeanor save the lives of those you cherish most.  You are a fraud.  You are as fraudulent as your movie scripts and public relations persons.  You told me one thing and acted one way and now you're a shell like all the rest.  No amount of Ricky Gervais illustrating you as a hilarious and disturbed individual will win me over.  You suck.

We use to be cool, you and I.  Strangers, literal strangers would comment on how adorable we were.  I've never experienced that before.  It was like the entire world was conspiring to have us be awesome.  Together.  Now what are we?  Struggling to cobble together something that may very well be impossible.  I am your sister, mother, secret lover and you do nothing in return.  You offer nothing.  You expel no energy in even my general direction.  A few texts here to keep tabs on me?  To make yourself feel like you're in a relationship?  You have no fucking idea what kind of work it takes to keep a life afloat...to breath life into something that we let die time and time again.  I want a love story you fuck.  Instead I'm settling for a smattering of attention when you feel like it or can work it into your busy schedule.  Oh Liam Neeson how you've fallen.

It's my fault.  I fell for you first and have made it every effort to make this fucking nightmare prosper.  That's what I want most in life is to prosper in what I do.  Not just to get by, not just to do what is expected but to fucking grow and pulse with the energy I've been granted for this limited fucking time.  I'm tired of waiting.  No, I'm fucking exhausted.  I will allow Martha Washington* to elucidate further:

'I am young and I am strong but I feel old and tired, over-fired.  I've been poked and stoked it's all smoke there's no more fire, only desire...for whoever you are.  You say my time here is some sort of a joke.  Some sort of incubating period.  You have no idea.  How it feels to be on your own, in your own home with the fucking phone.  I will not pretend.  I will not put on a smile.  I will not say I'm alright for you.  When all I wanted was to be good.  To do everything in truth.  To do everything in truth.  I wishIwishIwishI was born a man.  So I could learn how to stand...up for myself.'