Dios Mio Benjamin, I had hoped long and hard that I wouldn't have to fire the last of my reserve brain synapses on you, but alas, what can man do against the raging dark?
After 2 long fought and ridiculously eventful years of knowing you to the fullest extent that one could possibly hope for, I have failed to come to the conclusion at diagnosing your mental state. Contemporary accounts by others may provide fruitfulness where I fail to the see the bigger picture, but my experiences have unfortunately led me to beg the opposite. At times, you could provide me with a sense of subjective perverse/dark humor that my ears and eyes had never laid witness to before. The truly astonishing amount of content that could be produced by your vocal cords is extraordinary and worthy of recognition to the fullest degree. Whether this was a developed talent or simply a natural gift, I care not, for your mastery of it is unmatched. Your wide range of animal imitations, coupled with a sense of bizarre yet intriguing outbursts, had me fearing the worst for your mental capacity, but oh how wrong I was. My initial assumptions had led down a dark path when it came to how you would play out in terms of communication. The prognosis was bleak to say the least, as the rants became increasingly erratic and without context. Without so much as a trigger, or at the mere mention of a food item, you would fly into a bloodthirsty rage, entirely recalcitrant and lacking restraint in every way concievable by mankind. This tempest of an attitude would result in many bans and unfriends, many of which were later rekindled, but nonetheless concerning in terms of overall stableness.
If I had decided to take my leave after one of these calamities, and retired to my bed, then I would have deemed you a lost cause, beyond any hope for reconciliation and healing. Luckily (or perhaps a temporary lapse of reason replaced by a fit of madness) I postulated that you could be rehabilitated without the need for further conflict. Repeatedly, I attempted to break through to the inner mechanisms of your soul, hoping that given enough effort, progress could be made towards redemption. Despite my best efforts however, these attempts were proven to be fruitless. My hapless self was left to contemplate on how I could best approach the situation without being rendered untenated of sanity. I consulted my vast array of literature in hopes to see a correct, but no enlightement was achieved, nor any profound experiences for that matter. Considering that we have foregone communication following a previous altercation, I have postponed my studies towards this in order to focus on other matters.
Perhaps it was my overtly optimistic stance on you that has led this issue come to a fiery burnout, or perhaps not. Hopefully we can come to a more peaceful resolution in the future, but considering my rapidly detoriarating mental state, I fear that it will have to wait. Despite my religion, I put little stock in prayer, so I will leave that to others that venerate the celestials, whether they be friend or foe.
"The owl of Minerva spreads its wings only with the falling of the dusk."