rape aversion crisis
Ha, ha, ha!
I've sat down in front of the typepad post composition interface screen display several times over the past week or so because I had some shit to maybe write some things about, but by the time I have finished mentally preparing the first paragraph I just don't give a fuck anymore. Right at this very moment, in fact, continuing to string words together so as to be remotely comprehensible is utterly exhausting. I'm not whining, I'm just making excuses. Excuses for transgressions yet to be exposed...
The pods have been saying things about my mother. People are laughing, man (that's laughing with two f's). It's been making me feel bad, real bad, about not writing at all. I have to be careful what I say here. People who would like to see me fail hang on my every word, waiting for me to disclose just a little too much. A little something they can use against me. A way to keep me out of the club.
