Here’s the thing about gossip and why I don’t like it. It’s like I was out dancing in the rain for three hours and you’re telling everyone I broke into the pool to swim when (let’s get real here) I haven’t been near a public swimming facility in years. I’m ashamed that misplaced verbosity can make me feel anything, even anger.
Even if I could separate out the ruthless from the ones who just don’t care, I’d still be left wondering whether there was any fundamental difference between the two.
It’s raining and I wish I was outside wandering the streets of Fargo for an unbiased shoulder to rant to instead of sitting on the kitchen floor trying to write things.
oh mannn tonight killed my writer’s block. good. I don’t care about pain and betrayal if it gives me something to pour into the ink.
(wrote this at 5-6 AM but forgot to post it so posting it now)