Guh. Preparing to sell everything I ever owned, in order to mass-murder the last of my debts.

SHOULDA BEEN A BIG BOY TWO YEARS AGO.

BOO. HOO.

So, if anyone wants to buy cameras, guns, computers, or guitars, let me know.

( Read more... )

I'm still taking all of this in. I don't have enough information to feel comfortable forming a solid opinion ( Read more... )

http://www.thenervousbreakdown.com/rhickerson/2010/03/you-fucker-im-spilt/

So. In the end, I don't feel better, but I do feel different. Less, but not in a loss kind of way.

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Two poems, "You fucker, I'm Spilt" and "A Succession of BIrthdays" got picked up by The Nervous Breakdown, where I submitted poems to on a lark.

Kaboom, I'm for really-real published, now.

Tada!

~R

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Ask me something, anything.  Anonymous, or not.  I'll answer in the comments - and probably tell the truth.

I'm without words.

I can't stop crying.