Some Entry

You don't want to become some entry in some blog somewheres, but what's worse: you don't want to never be mentioned in a writer's course in history when he wrote about everything. You were just skipped over, blazed through. Even if it was bad, even if he spilled about the bad sex, and your horrible cooking, and the fact you never liked his mother. Even if he wrote your real name, and someone hacked your blog, and then your computer, and then broke into your car, and then stole your mother's dog, and then before you know it, you're crazy, and delusional, and all your friends stay away because they think they'll catch it like Angry Jack Syndrome. NO, better I say, better that at least he wrote about your crazy, bullshit fights and that time you threw his favorite shit into the trash.

At least he was thinking of you when he wrote.

AT least when your car got broke into it--it was for some damn good reason.

Not like this. Not like this.