Simon Monologues

Back then, everybody had a name. I was Simple Simon.

Holy shit. I’m an asshole, Robyn, okay? I made his life a living hell and I treated him like shit. Is that what you’re trying to figure out? That I was an asshole? I was an asshole, okay? My dad was an asshole to me, treated me like shit. But I took it. I sucked it up. I’m not on my hands and knees crying about it, praying about it. Stuck in the fucking past about it. I moved on. I made something of my life. This world’s about fucking winners and losers, and we’re all in the same shitty playground, you know? Guess what? That this guy lost and then he’s moaning about it, is just him being stuck because he wants to be stuck because he can’t get past the fucking moment. He’s not going to pull me back and apologize for something I don’t know about, that I’m not responsible for, that I don’t care about. I don’t owe that guy shit.

Don’t interrupt me, because I gotta power right through it and then you can talk right afterwards, okay?

… expresses how sorry I am that things turned out the way they did. Gordon. Sad face. “P.S.: I also apologize about the dinner. Without going into detail, I think I would feel ashamed to have you see where I really live. I am not exactly the success story that you both are. Stupid me. No, another sad face. Two sad faces. Oy.

P.P.S. Simon, after all these years, I really was willing to let bygones be bygones. I had nothing but good intentions.

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