Aight my juicy tomatoes (love you so much, love you so much, love you so much it's prolly an addiction), I am three sheets, and must abed.

I need you to know that I *know* you're insufficient, incomplete, broken, sad, angry.

I *know* that.

That's why it is so important to me that you know I love you. Anyway. In spite of.

You, as I, am a work in progress.

As long as we don't stop working on it, we're doing well.

Become yourself.

It's a hard life.

Be kind, to yourself, yes, and to others.