So I’m going to try something. Call it (HEY!) call it a New Years Resolution – A… rite of passage if you will. Being Hot Shit <- Ya know, I think i could pull it off, think it’d look good on me. I never thought of myself as "on-high-horse" material but WHO KNOWS! Maybe this horse’s always been high and I’ve just spent so much time, like, heh, cough, being scared of heights. Unable to enjoy the… trot. Ya know what? LET it be a fucking high horse. It’s a hiiiiigh horse with fucking tassles hanging from its butt. Pink tassles. Sequins around its eyes. Hot shit. i’m gonna try it. A lot of OTHER people of my age group, gender, who share the same interests as me… do it. So I’m GONNA. Don’t care if i’m……. imposing. Or lying.

Cause I’ve learned in my years – my years – that there’s very little pay back for the time you put into misery. If i tend to “get this way” – it’s in my genetics (ehhh people who say “it’s in my genetics” piss me off – so why did i say it?!) – well, then i’m going to at least pull off the “top-of-the-pyramid” … thing. Also? I EAT genetics then spit ’em out and say “Ehhh tastes funny” Same for rotten fruit or… clowns <- Uh Huh. Thing is, I want to fly somewhere (Figurrrrative) and not be bothered by famous Mean Reds. (THe non-Communist ones.)

*It’s not about family or genetics. It’s NOTHING about those things – they’re buffers (here). S’about the high horse.

xoxo sometimes


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