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September 15 - October 23, 2022
It is tragic both that this man has died and that his stupid impromptu attempt at entertaining himself misfired in a way that will now define him.
I wonder if anyone really identifies as the adult they’ve morphed into.
The fact that I’m able to carry myself through life without being crushed beneath the psychological weight of being alive proves that I’m a con artist. Aren’t we all con artists?
To vocalize the stupid thoughts he has without considering how others will interpret them.
He just fumbles happily through his day, saying whatever he is compelled to—while I am over here laboring to produce appeasing facial expressions.
when I was sidetracked by an article that claims priests used to kill themselves to be with God.
I guess this is why Catholics teach that suicide is a sin. They were running out of priests.
Two very tall people are getting married today. The church is choked with their pink roses. All of their guests are wearing pastel; pastel heels, pastel ties. I did not get the memo and am consequently wearing gray. I feel like a storm cloud in a spring meadow. It is unclear what my role is today, but I was asked to stand at the entrance to the church, and because of that, I suspect my role might be: gargoyle.