You’ve taught me plenty. And I taught you back but they were so peculiar the things I taught that you somehow made them a part of you and pretended you were teaching and I’d pretend I was keeping notes. And it was alright for a while. But then you stretched the theories and found new practices.
I want to write a letter and have it engraved in your mind. Transfer the information via a mindscan or something scientific enough to keep it untraced.
It seems now possible enough that you will never know. I’m not sure if I should be sorry or unsatisfied. Right now the latter seems stouter.

It seems now possible enough that no one will ever believe me. And maybe you’ll be well-regarded for rising above. Maybe they’ll even assume I was a bad influence. It’s funny isn’t it? Nearly hilarious.
I won’t finish this. Just not yet. I need to strip you off my pieces first. And then I’ll laugh loud until you burst into flames.

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