Shit got intense this week, and I…blah blahh, here I go again saying “I.” My this, I that, ewww I hate talking about myself. Like, it’s so fuckin self absorbed. What about YOU? I want to help others and I feel like all I do is talk about myself. In order to help others I have to talk about myself and share this crap we call “my story.” Dude, this shit is not a story; it’s my fuckin LIFE. Ya know, life is kinda precious. Why ought it be reduced to a mere story. It’s a story that never ends. Nothing in this world ever lasts, yet the story goes on.
See, that’s the thing- nothing lasts.
…
so what’s the fucking point.
I could say a lot but, like, I’m just not gonna speak. What’s the point? So I can connect with someone? Just so they can leave…if I don’t leave first?
