It’s like ongoing comedy at times, like when I pre-tank my book sales because of the florists’ boycott, or when I mistype said as saiad, and immediately decide that this is the new name for a depression nymph.

All this to avoid thinking about the slap in the face, the spit in the eye, the return to stupid games and lies by one of the most selfish individuals we have in our life.

Christ, I’m tired of insecure narcissists and their manipulative selfishness, with no regard as to who they hurt, or the last effect of their lies.

Target: 1600 words
Written: 2588 words, novel: Father Lightning

Read: Dead As A Doornail, Charlaine Harris
Comics: WildCats 3.0 8-11
Music: Forth, The Verve