Dead Inside

by Chandler Morrison

I hate dealing with people. They can’t be up front about anything. Please don’t confuse my misanthropy for misogyny.

People get so upset about the strangest things. Overreaction—it’s the American way.

Amen

Self-awareness really doesn’t mean shit, though. It is, in fact, little more than psychological masturbation, and has about the same net worth as a wad of semen in a handful of crumpled tissues. No cockroach ever desired not to be a cockroach, just because it knew it was a cockroach.

Consider this your goddamn trigger warning.

think this is the part where two living people would achieve the peak feeling of bodily conjunction, their carnal union at its explosive conclusion.

The first, and only, time I got drunk resulted in a hangover so obscene that I have since stayed true to that morning’s solemnly-sworn Porcelain Pledge.

Lol