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There comes a point where you just have to give in, you know?

In what sense?

In the sense that you have to give up everything that is important to you. In the sense that maybe you should give up on F14 entirely and concentrate on keeping E15 clear instead. Or maybe you should just throw the board across the room and forget the damn game of Battleship, quit the lip service you're constantly paying the naval fleet that pilots your life for you.

...

Are you following me? You're not even following me.

Not really...

Well how about this, how about I drop the extended metaphor and just give you a stupid poem that rhymes:
I do this all the time,
I'm on the brink,
Of blood draining down the sink,
La de da.
Don't you just prefer prose?
I'm not sure who I am any more.

I'm not sure either.

Why do I even talk to you? You never have any answers.

Well... You're very beautiful.

Ha! Beauty? Since when has that solved anything meaningful? I see it everywhere, but it's not the damn solution to everything. What, you think I'd be happier as one of those stupid bloody stick models? You think that that's what I need? Well, what if the damn problem is that I'm just not good enough?!

But you are.

Shut up.

No. You're perfect.

Shut up.

No you shut up! You let me tell you why.
You're a pillar of salt. You're not real any more, and that's okay. You have to be the one to create a world you're happy in. You have to accept that the sky is blue and let it defrost your heart a little. Take a picture of boring things just for the colours. Don't kill yourself for something you can't be.

You don't understand.

No you don't understand. You picked up a rock that you thought was obsidian, but it was just soot and it's covered your eyes so you can't see. You need to take a swim in the ocean in the middle of a storm or winter or both. Who cares that the soot is a product of incomplete combustion? Why should you? Draw a song or feel the sounds. Do what it takes to make you happy.

You sound so lame right now.

You know what?

What?

I don't care.

Description
There comes a point where you just have to give in, you know?

In what sense?

In the sense that you have to give up everything that is important to you. In the sense that maybe you should give up on F14 entirely and concentrate on keeping E15 clear instead. Or maybe you should just throw the board across the room and forget the damn game of Battleship, quit the lip service you're constantly paying the naval fleet that pilots your life for you.

...

Are you following me? You're not even following me.

Not really...

Well how about this, how about I drop the extended metaphor and just give you a stupid poem that rhymes:
I do this all the time,
I'm on the brink,
Of blood draining down the sink,
La de da.
Don't you just prefer prose?
I'm not sure who I am any more.

I'm not sure either.

Why do I even talk to you? You never have any answers.

Well... You're very beautiful.

Ha! Beauty? Since when has that solved anything meaningful? I see it everywhere, but it's not the damn solution to everything. What, you think I'd be happier as one of those stupid bloody stick models? You think that that's what I need? Well, what if the damn problem is that I'm just not good enough?!

But you are.

Shut up.

No. You're perfect.

Shut up.

No you shut up! You let me tell you why.
You're a pillar of salt. You're not real any more, and that's okay. You have to be the one to create a world you're happy in. You have to accept that the sky is blue and let it defrost your heart a little. Take a picture of boring things just for the colours. Don't kill yourself for something you can't be.

You don't understand.

No you don't understand. You picked up a rock that you thought was obsidian, but it was just soot and it's covered your eyes so you can't see. You need to take a swim in the ocean in the middle of a storm or winter or both. Who cares that the soot is a product of incomplete combustion? Why should you? Draw a song or feel the sounds. Do what it takes to make you happy.

You sound so lame right now.

You know what?

What?

I don't care.