No Big

To me, it's pathetic to pick on the little people.

I kept thinking there was like money involved or the blog secretly got like 2,000 hits a day, and the hacker, being the ingenious person he was, hid it from me. He didn't want me to know I was fucking famous. I was so famous, I didn't even know it! It had to be kept from me, right? That's logical. Because, of course, I don't want fame. I'm like that.

I live off of disability. I make, "make," about $1,100 a month from the government that I claim to hate so much. I can't remember if I'm supposed to pay taxes or not. I couldn't tell you. I have a lot of bills, the total amount, I don't know. Mostly they're medical. Some of which, about $5,000, is credit card. That's fairly minor. On a relative scale, I'm a small person. Recognizing my smallness in life has saved me more than once. This, here, however is not small, expressing that like the fear of death gets me nowheres.

To my knowledge, like friends, I have no powerful enemies. I have met relatively famous people because of where I live. That's it. Being a dancer is a particularly dangerous job, people in the industry know this, you collect bad guys over a time. I never had a problem. No stalkers, no bad ex-boyfriends, etc. I went without a driver to all but a handful of my shows.

I stayed small. I keep waiting for the big sign that says, "BIG." This has not happened.