The basement air hung thick with something beyond the usual cigarette smoke and spilled beer—something ancient and wrong that made my skin crawl before my brain caught up.
I don't wish to break the mood, but I've got to tell you but if anybody had come for you like that and I was there, he would have had 300 lb of angry lesbian slamming into him like a fucking freight train. Maybe I fight like a girl, but I fight. I know what kind of pain this writing came from, and I also know that you're your own worst critic, because I'm mine too. I can't do anything about what happened to you as a child, but I hope it helps to know that you have a lot of people who care about you now and I'm one of them.
This story made me weep for you.
Fuck. Just fuck.
I don't wish to break the mood, but I've got to tell you but if anybody had come for you like that and I was there, he would have had 300 lb of angry lesbian slamming into him like a fucking freight train. Maybe I fight like a girl, but I fight. I know what kind of pain this writing came from, and I also know that you're your own worst critic, because I'm mine too. I can't do anything about what happened to you as a child, but I hope it helps to know that you have a lot of people who care about you now and I'm one of them.
sorry, my last comment was for yesterday's post.
Substack is extra fucked today
Jesus, Wendy. That's a little more reality than my blood pressure can put up with. Listen to Helen, "Wake the f**k up."
Thank god I have a few hours until I have to be on camera.
That's not really you, is it?