Did Macintosh make their logo the silhouette of my bidden apple on purpose? Like was it a joke? Do they know what they’re getting into?
I didn’t. But Lord knows it, Adam would’ve shown up naked and red-handed if I hadn’t been heaven-sent that day.
DO not look at me that way. Bish. Please. You don’t know me.
Even if you got famous tomorrow, honest, I’d keep forgetting who you were, and if everyone got famous, we’d all plumb forget, and have to start all over like when nothing was known and everything was now. When everyone is a celebrity, no one is a celebrity, you know?
Pandora's always tellin me, “I should’ve known, I should’ve known.
For Godssake. Don’t Cry. I’m Sorry.
Forsooth, I know I forsake you.
But you know, I’m reducing my harm by learning all I can. Harm reduction is not defeatist. Harm reduction calls shots like how they are. It does not lie about quickness. It doesn’t exaggerate its capacity to change at the drop of an apple.
And I do wonder a lot: Have I taken too much, and not given enough?
In general, am I honest enough? Has my klepto-phase extended beyond petty theft? Did I ask for too big a bargain at the yard sale? Do I barter too much with the poor man selling paperbacks for singles?
And maybe I'm just the scapegoat for all you assholes, the reasoning with which you justify all mistakes. The reason you rape and the reason you steal and the reason your broken heart. Go ahead, fine with your crying. If that's your thing, take comfort in that.
I’m the faultline of a fable.
Something from which you can learn.
Again: Take Comfort In Learning.
But don't you fucking blame me.
I’m A sweet but scentless full-figured bod with no face
snakecharmer69@íDen.edu: I knew all along that it’s better to know a devil than to meet him again.