A Dinosaur Called Words

For anyone with the guts to judge, I wrote the following June 26, 2017:

Where’d she go?

What’d she do?

Did she go on?

Did she die?

No, she didn’t die. She’s still right here with the front row seat to the ‘Hasn’t That Girl Killed Herself Yet Show?’.

I always have these ideas spilling everywhere but the keyboard during the night. By morning I don’t care to share. It’s almost my bedtime. But I’ll likely skip it. Yes, I’m skipping meals also.  It wasn’t all that long ago that I had to hide that, cause people cared.  Wow, a lot has changed since, oh wow, since 9 years ago.  I really don’t get why I’m still alive. It’s not by choice. I promise. If I could cease to exist, I’d do it.  Maybe not for you, but I’d do it for me. It’s kind of awesome how I can say that knowing noone’s going to read this. Even if one of you actually does, you’ll just click like and go about your day.  And that’s fine cause I could never get these things off my chest back when people listened and cared. I’m struggling with it here and now cause I think I probably shouldn’t. I should just keep it too myself.  Why risk alienating anyone else? I don’t know. Why not? Really don’t answer that. Who me? I wasn’t going to.  I still love you.  I just wish you were dead. That’s all.


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