Done.

I state this for those few who have paid at least nominal attention over the past few rolling, tumbling years. Your numbers are few, and I want you to know I completely understand. I haven't made much of a spectacle of myself in any way; I haven't raised my hand in class, or shyly walked up to you in the darkened gym while the syncopated beat of throbbing 80's music echoed off the walls, asking you to dance. I've just sort of... tumbled along in this quiet, dull way.

I've been the good boy.

I've danced to your tunes when you demanded, and treaded carefully when you cast your decrees for silence.

I've suckled your teat to receive that watery milk, adorned my mind with the thoughts you approve of, and carefully trimmed my tongue to speak your language.

And
I tell you now,
Your language has no poetry.
Your music has no beat,
Your lyrics merely praise mammon.
I had willingly given the best of myself to you, for the miserable sake of safety, and I am here to Tell you,
Now,
That I am done.

I've tried to make your values my own, and when I drew near to success, I only saw darkness whenever I had the courage to even take a tragic look inside.

So you want me to jump. Keep waiting. I'll do it any moment now.

Or maybe I won't.
Because I don't need to please you. I don't need your fucking games. And guess what? I don't need to prove myself to you. You want to see what I can do for you? You want to see how hard I fall when I prostrate myself, what depths I will slink to so that I can gain your favor? Shall I walk on my knees through the cobblestone streets?
Wait.
Just wait.
And wait even more.
And as you wait, if you dare complain that I am wasting your time, remember this clearly:
YOU have wasted MINE.

I'm done.

Oh, not completely. There is that pesky nuisance that we've all agreed to call 'reality', and I am not so liberated that I can disregard it. That way, madness lies.

But I want you to know I don't believe in you anymore. I don't want you anymore. I refuse to commit one single synapse in this once fertile mind to thoughts of you, when those 9 hours I've allotted to your grubbing cause come to an end.

I will smile and say the right words. I will walk with integrity beside you. All the way up until the time when I can walk away from you forever.

I've tried to be you, and found that I cannot be you, because 'you' are a negative. And you can never prove a negative. So I will leave you to you.

And leave me to me.

But don't worry: I'll shut the door on my way out, instead of slamming it.

I'm not inconsiderate, you know.