Old Bossman delivered to me a chair. It is now my writing chair. The curator’s cat sniffed it and approved. He’ll be perched on it one day, listening to me write.
A man grabbed my phone out my hand today and smashed it onto the floor. I didn’t ask for that to happen, but I said some things he didn’t like to hear and I pet his dog who came up to me to say bye. The man yanked the dog away, yelled at me to not touch his “things,” and broke a piece of technology I use to do my work. The curator was on the phone and heard the whole thing.
I guess I’m just gonna enjoy the show tonight and at least I’ve cleared my space for positive, authentic energy to flow. The biggest downside is, I don’t have a phone and I have a job that requires that kind of connection now. People can project whatever they want onto me, but I’m water and air. I’ll move around you and above you. And if you get in my way… well there’s really not much you can do with forces of nature.
Bossman told me to be careful. Rod told me to be careful. But hey. A girl’s got some words and a girl isn’t afraid to share them. Especially if someone asks. Like why ask a question you don’t want to really hear the answer to, then fly into a rage? You fucking dumbass. The main lessons I got from this? We all gotta be braver. Cause some of us small queens are about to take over, ready or not.
On a positive note, I’m a casual copywriter, reporter, and autobiographer. Nice.