We saw the world through a similarly shifting and scrutinous gaze, trying to give shape to things that lay just beyond the haze of that confounded maze in which we found ourselves trapped, like those research rats we once upon a time cared for. I told you to make the most of the hours, you taught me to stop and smell the flowers, and though we always went our own direction we kept meeting at those random fucking intersections, in our varying degrees of travesty we happily received each other's company - forgivingly, unconditonally - but eventually you built up your own set of rules, your own maze - too-tall walls of solitude meant to exclude me and everyone else from whatever new life you were attempting to cultivate. Resurfacing only to sprout whatever hate had been seeded inside you. So, fine, hate, enumerate the ways in which I've wronged you, but don't deny the group you once belonged to. Some day I'll be gone too. I'll go, and you'll just be somebody that I used to know.