i’m guessing if my laptop charger smells like burning i should probably unplug it
Maybe maturing is having the self-awareness to look at the person you were in the past and cringe a little.
So I guess I’m writing fantasy now? Well, didn’t see that one coming.
It’s been almost three days and I’m still too pissed to form a coherent response.
ACCEPTED TO THE FICTION WORKSHOP YES FUCK YES
The ubermensch is a Trotskyite freshman living down my hall.
Performed thrice as a racist, angry juror and seriously raged out.
Got really frustrated at my comparatively bad dancing skills at a Swarthmore Queer Union party.
Took care of a really drunk person.
Delivered an impromptu Mr. V-esque sex-ed talk.
Smashed holes in a wooden wall with a hammer.
Found out that really bad shit happened to someone I sort of know.
Mentally worked out more stuff for a fiction project I’ve got going in my head sort of based on fixing things that annoy me about Christian theology.
Wrote 50% of a letter that I really should not send and which I’m really afraid to read over again.
Certain people are always going to own a piece of you, whether you want them to or not. They might not even want the piece, but it’s still always going to be in their name. The best you can do is watch that piece shrink relative to the rest of you - sell more shares, dilute. You cheat your original investors out of everything and try to forget about them. Eventually, I guess, you stop giving a damn.