yeah. so when does the fun start?

I'm sick of narcissism, whether it comes in half-pint containers topped with curly hair or muscle-bound crates. I'm sick of being stared at when the only reason is for comparison to the staree, and I'm sick of the look on her face when I come out favorably. I'm sick of my kids arguing and getting into shit that isn't theirs. I'm sick of broken rules and I'm even sicker of the rules themselves. I'm sick of having to continually justify myself, and I'm sick of imposing that requirement on myself. I'm sick of rain. I'm sick of people globalizing their personal issues, be it through Oprah or legislation. I'm sick of togetherness when I need to write and aloneness when I have to raise kids. I'm sick of commercials and I don't even watch tv. I'm sick of houses that look the same and conversations that sound the same. I'm sick of my body.

Wouldn't it be fun to wake up with a different body each day? I bet there is limited predjudice among shapeshifters. Wouldn't it be fun to hear new languages everywhere you went and maybe if one day that store on the corner was an animal hospital, and then the next it was a bar, and the next a library? I need to be somewhere else.

I need to go to Boulder. Actually, fuck that; I need Europe. Prague. I need Prague.

See how I get? I need to write.

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