I'm sure you've noticed that I haven't been myself around you lately.
At first I thought it was because we were just getting to know one another - but the truth is I'm not sure what you want from me and lately I've found it difficult to be around you, primarily because I couldn't find you.
I'm normally not a suspicious person but I can no longer ignore the many times we've started over from scratch only to find myself confused, alone and scratching my head. I'll try for you, Tumblr, but I won't cry for you -- been there, done that. Fool me once, shame on me -- fool me twice, fuck you MySpace.
I don't know, maybe I am still angry over the whole MySpace thing.
Please hear this with all the love I intend: you seem utterly useless and entirely derivative of other far more superior utterly useless and entirely derivative things. You're like some drag act tribute to Jim Baily -- and not even a very good one.
It isn't my job to fix you but I'll be damned if I'll sell either one of us short by not telling you the truth, Tmbls -- you just don't seem to know who you are. Oh, believe me, I'm not judging you. You're young, bursting with an innocent puppy energy -- like a light layer of powdered sugar dusting some cheap Mexican churro: you're delicious, warm and kind of flakey but the real pleasure is in the final release. I don't mean to sound harsh -- and no, I don't hate you -- although, if you added up to enough to hate, I would certainly hate you.
I guess I just don't find uninteresting interesting anymore -- you're like a waif supermodel without the father issues.
I'm sorry if you expected more; if you did, Tumblr, please remember, it's you, not me.
(I'm not promising anything but I may come back you in a month. I'm back with Twitter and Facebook. It's a time bomb, of course, but at least it's our time bomb)
Take care of yourslf.