You don’t even deserve my ghost

I’ve reached a point of no return, and now it’s your turn to learn. I’ll go my own way and remove myself from your view because I no longer feel that my presence is warranted. I don’t want to deal with the frustration you bring, whether you’re using your real name or a fake one—it’s all a shame. Understand that I’m not addressing you directly; it seems you still don’t recognize who I am beyond just a fleeting presence. My journey is mine alone, and I’m not concerned about your calculations or opinions. I’ve always said I’m a real person, not because I considered you a toy, but because your fabrications have grown like Pinocchio’s nose, and your issues are piling up. Honestly, I’m baffled by how you can clean yourself up in just two minutes. You’re definitely not the cleanest. I never bothered to put myself together because you never stopped talking. You rambled on and on, but your actions never matched your words. Yesterday, I let myself feel angry, and that’s on me because you don’t deserve my presence, you know that. You might be a motherfucking peasant, but you also don’t deserve my lingering presence. I am no longer your host for this nonsense.