121512 #human #crow You know what? I could make this big speech to the girls about why the tree isn't loaded, isn't groaning like a pregnant fish with presents this year. I could go into detail about the words, the highways, the irony, the drink, the wonder, and the CHOICES, but you know what? They wouldn't get it. It still sucks to be poor and not have a bunch of presents. That's the beauty of it. It's not bullshit. Being poor really is being poor. I said I didn't care when I was in my twenties, and I'm paying for it now. And if they don't get it right now, they might get it someday, and they might forgive me. We'll see. But the beauty of it is, it's real. I always wanted something real. So I guess I'm lucky. I'm not posing. The shitty hard difficult part really has come home. And here I am, ready to grapple with it, with chicken beak and wiry hands. I'M NOT FUCKING DEAD YET, YOU MOTHER FUCKERS. I'm going to go out kicking and motherfucking screaming. It's who I am. It's what I do. Think that's a pathetic cliché? You're probably right. AND FUCK YOU.