Having A Show Get Canceled

I Am Always The Source Of The Worst Rumors About Myself.

Nothing Wrong With Changing Your Mind. That's A Very Unwaffling Thing To Say: "nothing Wrong..." Who Am I To Say That There's Nothing Wrong With It? Maybe Something Is Wrong With Changing Your Mind. Anyway, Love Is Very, Very Difficult. I Love. But Probably Because I Hate Myself On Some Deep, Sick Level, It Makes Loving Difficult. But I Do Try.

I Didn't Think I Was In A Morbid Mood, But It Appears I Am. My Mind Goes Round And Round Trying To Figure Things Out, But I Always Come Back To The Same Two Things: Loneliness And Death. Life Ends Before We Figure Anything Out, Most Importantly How Not To Be Lonely. Solitude Is Fine. But Feeling Like You Have No One To Love - Abject Lonliness - Is Not Alright.

I've Really Never Written About My Relationships, Or Things Like That. I Wouldn't Want To Divulge Things That Were Too Private.

No One I Interact With - Except Maybe For Family And Strangers At The Russian Baths And Other Weird Places I May Go To - Is Just Friends Or Lovers With Me: They Also Know Something Of My Writing And This Distorts Their Take On Me.