I Own My Words; The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly

My writing can be accurately characterized as strident, militant, biased, mean, vulgar, illogical, and, usually, terrible.

While it is my goal now to be kind as I make my way through the world during the rest of my tomorrows, some people who read my words (all 2 of you) might accuse me of being unkind. At first glance, for example, praying that the god of social conservatives & trump voters & evil assholes get raptured and no longer exist on earth might not meet the seem kind.

To that I simply say: it is kind to be honest. It is not kind to pretend. It is polite. And being polite and being kind are cousins, not twins.

When I write something strident, it is ABSOLUTELY what I believed at the moment. And to be frank, since I’ve been blogging from January, I still 100% stand (or sit, rather, I’m pretty lazy) behind EVERY WORD I’ve written.

Except the typos. They are my nemeses.

Could I change my mind about something I’ve written at some point in the future? Sure. Is it likely? Fuck if I know. I’m not a psychic.

Point is: I write what I want to write and I do not care who it offends or hurts or affects. If you don’t like what I write, don’t fucking read it. You don’t see me reading the excrement produced by social conservative blogs or publications.

I use my writing and I engage with social media for one single purpose: my entertainment. I do like to learn things but for me, edification is a subset of entertainment.

I spent more than 36 years holding it all in to please other people. I tap danced for Assholes till my feet bled. It never made me happy. It ate away at me until I collapsed.

I am very fortunate to have people in my life who like me despite all my glaring faults. But more important than anything, I extremely lucky to still have a slight grasp on my ugly, broken, bloody, reborn, fighting, defiant, mean, kind, profane soul.

And I’m going to let it sing.


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