Resistentialism

I don’t understand why you hate me so much. All I want is my breakfast. I feed you bread and wait patiently with my jams and plate but you’re so temperamental with me.

One day you’ll refuse to release my toast and blacken it as though you’re trying to burn the house down. The next you’ll spit it out too early and it’s still stone cold. Another day you’ll throw it onto the floor when I’m not looking.

I never knew a damn toaster could be so vicious.

Perhaps I’ll buy a new one.