The next post was supposed to be funny...

But I'm giving in. I have been mature and responsible and when I am done with this I will probably go back to being those things but for now I have run out of hot angry tears and all I have left are the words that came with them. And I am choking on them and so I have to put them somewhere.

So FUCK YOU angry girl. (Or would you prefer "grrrrl"? Ya fuck you for that too.)

Has no one told you that the strongest ones don't have to keep TELLING people how strong they are? They just are. And you are embarrassing yourself.
The strong ones are the ones who are smiling at you and saying thank you and being kind and trying to help despite having a story that would wound your soul if you knew it.

The same goes for being smart...one would have thought you might have figured that out WHAT WITH ALL OF THE BLINDING FUCKING BRILLIANCE and all.

Do you know that I used to be like you? You smell like my past and the stench has been making my eyes water while they look right through you.

You are a fucking fraud.

Do you know that activism is not an excuse for hatred?
Do you know that all you are leaving in your wake is a rancid froth of rage and noise and that it will dissolve? For all of your indignant fury, it will just dissolve.

Do you think you are the only one who feels grief in your bones the way others feel a rainstorm? Injustice that closes your throat and makes your eyes ache? Searing pain that stays underneath your skin and in your lungs and the dull pain that is sometimes in your womb?
Do you think you are the only one whose body seems to be a conduit, or are you just the one who thinks that it is a good excuse for being a bitch.

Fuck you angry girl.

Do you think that those of us who smile and try to be gentle and kind and happy were born into these things? Maybe the pleasant, vacant look you despise on the face of the woman at the stop-light is her dressing over the wound that was re-opened last night, when she had turned off all the lights and laid her head down and like smoke under the door THE HURT CAME BACK.

Your righteous judgement belies your ignorance.

I hope you choke on the tender nostalgia that you keep smearing around me.

And now watch this...

This is what I have learned to do from my life so far and it's one of the hardest things but watch this...

I am going to try to like you.