I received an email recently from a guy who wanted to know why I didn’t respond to the comments left on the blog, specifically when questions are directly posed to me. I think he found it rather…ungenerous.
My mother never said it, but I knew she loved me. Or did I? Okay, not really. Especially when she was systematically shredding my self-esteem. I mean I know she felt something, but it could have been gas. I was always a pain in her ass, never satisfied with her evasions, always wanting to know THE TRUTH. Here’s the truth, Life isn’t Fair. That was one of her cheery mottos
I don’t get mixed up in the comments because I only have two eyes and one mouth. Because I don’t know what to say. Because I’m afraid of the rabbit hole. Because all I can do it post the bloody paragraph and get back to my strict diet of self-loathing and late night television. I’m sorry, sir, if you are not happy with the level of audience participation. I’m not happy with the static in my brain, with the degree to which justice is only an idea, and how it is that no matter how comfortable they feel in the store, every shoe I bring home bites into my foot.
I love you all. A lot. For reading and contributing to this great big whiny vaginey conversation known as Betsylerner.com Hilarious. That’s my comment.
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