An Open Letter to I Think You Should Know,
You'll get what's coming to you. I hope you get it hard, and I hope it's not pretty. Talking to you doesn't work. My other options involve things and people I don't want to involve. So I am choosing to put it in gray tones on the internet, on my all important, all consuming 'blog'. And take it on faith that karma is real. Retribution is a beautiful and powerful thing. Shame on you. You should know better. I know you know better. People don't actually need to own a lot of things, outside of their thoughts, feelings, and bodies. Those things are important. Those things are invaluable. Those things are with you as long as you're alive. I'm taking mine, and putting them some place safe. I'm taking mine, and taking control over them. I'm out.
Mama
Dear Kibble Slash Giraffe,
This is for you. This is different. This is just for the record. Papers get lost, words get forgotten. But the internet is forever! Whatever. You are the kind always trying to read between the lines, but now there are no lines. Thank you. Just, thank you. For everything. And for everything that hasn't happened yet. Having the faith to believe that bad karma is real also means having the faith that good things happen and miracles are smaller and more common than we think. Thus far this has proven true. Thank you for being the thing that you are. That thing is a gift. Something I am still trying to find words for.
love Mama
The thing about calling in sick to work is that sometimes you are actually sick. The thing about needing to call in sick is that sometimes the people you're calling understand and don't ask you questions. It's 70 degrees outside in New York and it's January. Sometimes global warming isn't something you can complain about. I'm just saying. And yes, I'm listening to TLC. I happen to like them. Not as some ironic hipster joke. Sue me. I'm a little tired of irony. Unless it's for comedy's sake. What happened to actually caring about things? Go to Union Pool and drink a crappy beer and talk about how unaffected you are by the world. That's a great way to exist in the world. Or not? I'm just saying.
The thing about calling in sick to work is that I did, and it happens to be 70 degrees in New York and I'm going to cut my losses, pick up the pieces, say fuck it about the down shit, and enjoy this day and the fact that I'm alive. Peace.
