I Regret to Inform You That…

Things are about to get a little weird.

I regret to inform you that I am fully back on my bullshit. Returning to my regularly scheduled programming after a brief hiatus to make an eventually futile attempt to explore some version of happiness or at least something vaguely similar. Didn’t work out. Sometimes it goes that way. So this is what we got. Buckle up.

I regret to inform you that I am about to let my freak flag absolutely fully fly. And you know what? Fuck anyone who tries to get in my way.

I regret to inform you that I am fully on one today.

I regret to inform you that I am finally coming out of hibernation. Might mess around and start dating again, even. Swipe around and find out. Hell, even approach a stranger at a bar. Taste some lipstick. Shed my winter clothing at long last and enjoy what’s gonna be a couple months of a true Hot Scott Summer. One might say I’m fully fucking back, my friend, for better and for worse.

I regret to inform you that I’m likely the smartest guy in this room. Which may not be good for or in the best interest of anyone. I should note, I suppose, that I am currently alone in my apartment as I type this.

I regret to inform you that I’m about to bring some real serious energy to this fuck-show.

I regret to inform you that I’m starting to grow up and evolve. Went to bed at like 9:30 p..m. last night and didn’t eat anything in bed before doing so. Then I flossed for the second time in one day’s time. I think it might soon be over for all these hoes.

I regret to inform you that I have finally gotten to the level of fatigue that one night of solid sleep can’t fix, where I’m too tired to are all that much what other people think of me or say about me. Which may yield some serious ramp-ups in self-esteem, confidence and curiosity. Some wildly dangerous ideas and creativity may ensue. We’ll see what happens.

I regret to inform you that I have gotten a second wind just now. Came outta nowhere and I love it. I’m gonna be at this all night. I have a dozen stuffed mushrooms for sustenance, a bottle of scotch for strength and a dream in my heart. I’m about to get fully in my bag, come what may.

I regret to inform you that I’m finally done going ahead and fucking myself. Metaphorically speaking. i’m still going to keep masturbating with vigor and what some may even call ferocity.

I regret to inform you that I am no longer going to give you the goddamn satisfaction. And that I do not wish you the best. Go kick some rocks or something.

I regret to inform you that it seems like it’s high time for a vibe check. And the vibes have suddenly gone from extremely bleak to at least semi-promising. Try to keep up with me if you dare. Buy the ticket, take the ride.

I regret to inform you that I might actually get willfully confrontational for once. Might go full-on scorched earth. You ready for a mutiny? Because I think I am. We were once Peter Pan and now we’re goddamn pirates. Ruffians. Scalawags. Swashbucklers. Let’s take the power back, baby.

I regret to inform you that I might dabble in a somewhat healthy lifestyle for a while. Maybe a meaningful intimate relationship that I don’t run screaming from will follow. Who’s to tell? It’s about time I choose my own adventure.

I do not regret to inform you that I’m sincerely having some fun with it for once, and fully allowing myself to do so.