I know how and what I am in this world. Seeing a band I’ve wanted to see for almost 35 years of my life reminded me how much I have not changed from the wild feral child I was when I met you. You met me broken and damaged and I never wanted to change from that. I wish I hadn’t. Being a better man lead to nothing but misery and ruin. I was better off being mean and on the run. Now I’m fucking nostalgic for the bad old days and not the ones where I ran the electric circus that is my life… those days at least I could control. I just know what was good in my life and how little of it we had together. Maybe one day that will change, i highly fucking doubt that possibility, I will never be something you can control, and you don’t even love me anyways, all you love is the idea of me, a very carefully cultivated idea and image of me that you have fooled yourself into being the truth, some days maybe I am him, some days I wish I was something better. Other days I know I’m someone worse. The one...