Perfecting loneliness

Things in my life have a tendency to go out with an anti-climactic little fart noise. This is my fault more than anyone else's. Maybe I just don't pay attention enough to my surroundings; maybe I have a tendency to take the better and lighter elements in my life for granted; maybe I'm just not cut out for this "being satisfied" at the moment sort of business. When I can convince myself that I deserve good things once in a while, would it be presumptuous to have you hear from me again? The silence and lack of closure speaks a resounding "yes." I've become too comfortable with stagnation in my life, I wrap it around me like a blanket and hide away from both the monster under my bed and the proverbial skeletons in my closet. One of these days I'm gonna suffocate from wrapping it too tightly.

Translation: Sorry. As in "I'm" and "you don't have to be."