Dear IO,

The only purpose of you is to help people reach higher places. You're fairly simple in design, however to some you can be quite a challenge. Now, I'm perfectly agile, but I can see you always attempting to catch me off guard. Whether I'm in a hurry or simply not paying attention, you're there to remind me that you are an obstacle. Perfectly capable of making me achieve what was thought impossible, you are the only one to make me fall up over and over again in what seems to always be a packed public place. You find the split second I take my eyes off you to take a sip from my drink to spring your attack.

I'll just say to the girl that I fell face first into that these stairs are out to get me.

Dear IO,

I can never really understand why you fight, it seems almost useless. If everything is pushing you in one direction, wouldn’t it just make sense to go with the flow? That’s not it with you though, not at all. When it makes sense to just conform and follow suit, you gum up the works by deciding to simply go the other direction. I understand your feeble attempts at freedom, but the current is just too overpowering and working against you. Underneath all this pressure, you break, and you come to realize that the struggle was just wasted time. The only thing that remains is a streak of your presence from where you once clutched for your last glimpse of light, until the rushing water swallowed you whole.

Thanks to you, I now have to clean the toilet before company.

Dear IO (Inanimate Object),

I seem to have this habit, a habit of talking to everything. Nothing will ever have the last word when I’m around, even if it is an inanimate object. A door, a table, the TV, anything falls into this category. Even you, my most unfortunate blog. Yes, thanks to the latest and greatest from mobile carriers, I can now talk back to you whenever I please.

I warn you.

Prepare for rants from all walks of life, or at least my life, to someone as defenseless as you, blog.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.