The world doesn't know it, but it was saved from another shitty band a few weeks ago.

To other ends, I question the reality of a world where people, given enough time, actually begin to learn certain things in their own right, motivations and convictions that fell from clouds in the form of thunderous daggers a long time ago. Part of it seems unfair - like chemical burns - and part of it seems re-affirming.

How does one feel in relation to something that brings them small pangs of joy, yet stings clear with rabid thoughts of "Why didn't you get it sooner? I told you it all before and you refused it then, why understand now in my dismissal?"

And then I think that such salvation, whether or not directly attributed, was still rooted in a presence from their past. A voice that died on their ears but never left, and the remains rotted inside a mind until they finally took place inside dark recesses and lunchtimes.

So given all of that, there's little reason to continue to say I told you so.

Instead, I prefer to think of it merely as a stunted, one-legged reminder that, yes, the whale still swam even after you lodged spears in it's throat. He got away, survived, and then began to devour my enemies.

No matter how many times I tried to save them before.

No matter how many times.

I'm not bad...JFTW....