on keeping my distance

Would rather be alone than where I was.

So I had to boil myself in the shower to figure it out. Lesson learned—and learned well.

Now we play a little game called risk.

When Planter guy asked last night, "what are you afraid of?" he was trying to get me on board the gravy train. His gravy train. What he accomplished was quite the opposite.

This evening, after a week of that thing called 'space,' I called him. (No, not him. Jesus, keep track, people, we're coming to the denouement here. Or we will do. Eventually.) The G.I.Q.

I was walking home and it was Spring and I thought, hell, if I'm going to build myself up for the inevitable bust, I might as well be rejected for being me. Maybe it hurts a little less, but where's the integrity in corners?

Time to get real, bitches. Time to get real.