It’s almost like an abusive relationship. I don’t know what to talk about.

I keep looking at that blazing trainwreck but I don’t want to give it oxygen.

There is too much else going on in the world right now for me to waste time thinking about that dumpster fire.

I can read books. I can practice the piano. I can work out. Sorta (boo, tendinitis). So why am I looking back at that cesspool?

Help me move on.