Choke on this, thanks
I’m supposed to stop killing people and well this
makes me sad but teachers can be incomprehensible at times, I know
he means well and I am listening but as usual won’t give no instructions so had
to figure it all out solo.
Ok I need to turn into a real writer so I can roll
a bunch of individuals into one big upsetter, fictionalize, stop
naming names, so to speak,
it’s no good to rattle you individuals with your own unique and horrific reflection, so I need to
compile, composite, whatever, this is what mature, adult writers do, writers,
especially women writers have an extra consciousness that you ass-holes better
approach with caution, if I’m gonna take
on the burden of respecting
the damage I can inflict.
Happy days, huh. I was developing just fine I thought, bad, like
Jesse James, now I’m supposed
to be bad like the Fonz.
So if I become a serious writer like so many of my decent,
hard-working self-publishing friends who write stories I never ever see myself
in (ha ha) everything good and true and nice in the world will continue movin
forward before I hit town. Then when you read about thieving wreckers you may
see yourself in him/her but it’s all so hazy, vague and oh, hi mom, is that dad you’re channeling?
We can all cringe at these unbelievably ludicrous characters, their
inability to bust out of their sociopathology and learn a single pre-school
lesson, I wouldn’t want my daughter marrying one, then we can be John Cheever
and swim to Czechoslovakia, again, and everything is groovy and spiritual and
nice, life is short and basically perfect, everyone lives and no one ever dies
but they do get to call me a hack, very threatening huh rock critics?
Love on ya,
Trouble
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2002 Robin Plan and troublewaits.com.
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