Plans are afoot for Spin Me I Pulsate, and it’s looking like, come March, she’ll be shutting the hell up. (I know, a bunch of you are rolling your eyes and yelling Thank FUCK for that..)
It doesn’t seem me anymore. The person in here-the happy person, the fucked up person, the person with a family and love, the person who wanted to die-none of them look like the me I am, or will be. It feels like an old pair of pants I’ve grown out of.
Maybe I’ll change my mind at some point. Maybe I won’t. I don’t know. I’ve just got too much shit going on, and this is starting to feel strange to me.
For now, I’ve started The Service of Others, fiction, based on the stories I hear each day from the people I talk to. Sure, a call center is a shitty job. But open your ears, and people will give you more than you’d imagine. And I want to write about that. More than anything, I want to be writing more, not whining and telling my story. I fuck my life up-we’re clear on that. I just don’t want to be linked with that much more.