Tableread.

Options: going home to snuggle in bed with my aesexual femboy bestie

Or:

A second option arises.
2 percent battery life.
No money.
Willow's jeep-ass looking jeep.
11:38ish pm.
Yesterday.

But they tell me drive closer to the airport but there is no free parking there. Hilarious.

Turn south on what huh. iPhone 11 rose gold falls from lap to floor. Dead upon impact.

I pull off to try to remove the torn tights but there are people everywhere. being whored is the least of my fear as fresh orders are in place.

I-15 looking for whatever was that exit between Jordan and Draper. 120 makes me smile. 125 is the next door neighbor. 130 comes with a bang. 135 burns my hands. 140 sets me free. Draper is coming up in a few minutes, I THINK it's still a few. That might be funny for everyone who never cared about my suffering when I was alive. I'll make myself a "Now Leaving Draper Town" Signpole Sitter.

At 7:25 I was a movie star but by 9 pm I was an extra at this table read that I shadow-organized via Dan McBride.

Cause Kyle really needed celery at 6:35 pm and doesn’t want me to get famous. 5 minutes early is the literal worst. Last to arrive. At least there is a chair. Everyone looks ashamed to have started without me 5 minutes before posted start time. Not a smile upon the sea. Even the new star of the night looks disappointed to see me.

Cause I had the thought to flirt with the director by waiting until I was within 40 minutes of arriving to even ask him for the exact address within the small town of Cottonwood Heights, which he apparently thought was Los Angeles. I got there 5 minutes early to a formerly loyal army I had just thrown. 2.5 hours, no eye contact.

The chick he had doing the lead seemed fine. Then I remembered that my brother was behind this :: operation read out.

He apparently really is making a genuine attempt at getting me to suicide. Or this is my punishment from the family for not securing my fate.

I guess he thinks acting is like soooooo important to me. ;0 such ignorance of his own sister. dammit. (it's a bull's eye yes I call my own bluff for you)

The poem isn’t gonna work either way, John. You don’t have to use a gun on me to make me write. Threat credibility is the only standard that matters didn't mom tell you? We have the same heart; only you couldn't hide how much you love me, brother. Not in your pupil like I could but never would do on you. Not in your eyes.  okay and yes you very much could it's just oh . ok. well thank you. should this bit come out. one voice.

Tonight. Staying up alone writing soul-wrenching poetry to a cruel and callous man who knows me not. It's been a long time since I've heard anything new.

A second option arises.
2 percent battery life.
No money.
Willow's jeep-ass looking jeep.
11:38ish pm.
Yesterday.

Should I use these 2 percent to look up a flight to Nashville, then not tell him I did that and just say I was wondering if he had time to chat me through the 10 minute drive home cause I was near suicide just now from having been humiliated. 2% won’t buy me any time. Someone is telling me loudly in my head to come to the airport first.

Energy, “time”, focus, “creative process”
These are not excuses
Nervouside - death threat from Brother



J doesn’t ask anything he just wants to know. Is it nervouside or the other one?

The other one I nod: intentional.

“Oh, just looking for a good weapon, eh?” With a smirk.

He loves me and knows I don’t have one but he’s calling my bluff just in case.

I go back for cookie as I approach the car and reconsider the dire consequences of saying no. Dan give me the weakest smile we wave goodbye: as if he knows full well I will be back in 20 minutes due to that extreme coercive effort by the group at the table read.

Nope. F*ck that I say.

Apparently Utah has be just fine without me. Where to next? Airport?

Dan. Thinks I’m in bondage to him? Pft. It’s beyond off with Dan. It was never even scheduled.

 A roadtrip comedy. Such flat salt land.

Hospital only comes to mind only now.  

I counted on Dan to make a believable cover story for my captor.

But then I thought more about it. He doesn’t barely know me. I’ve only helped him out 10 or 15 times since I’ve met him a year ago. For me, that would be an easy $20,000 to turn down but Dan's an unknown element.

Went to kneaders . for bearings and orientation.  In Walmart, stole the wrong cable. 711. Maverick. Finally I found a $4.99 lightening to USB-C I could steal from the friendly pimp fronting as a clerk who kindly turned his head seeing the state of my dis-dress and torn tights.

At about 125 it starts hitting me that I am 110% in bondage to Dan and I don’t actually have an exit for this particular production.

Road trip! Comedy! Get it? If you run, we will follow you. If you drive, we will follow you. If you take a cookie on the way out the door we know that means we will wait patiently here for you.

Leave without a cookie. Come back 3 minutes later to get one,  and receive the villainous gentle smirk of the confident mastermind at work.

he thinks he knows I am always coming back soon.

I get more care from the strange black pimp tonight than from you.

a month is a long time to wait for a plea for help. it is. I know.

1st draft. you don't know this processs. I have to put in the sting and then I take it out before you read it. '

 like "you monster" came out as the first line of the one poem.  

Yes I wrote every goddamn word except the random pop cultural reference unless you count the anonymously offered inspirations from the astral plane.

I'm not going to love you any more after tonight because Ross is asleep and the firearm is in reach.

If her grip is stronger than mine, and she holds me down all night, then I will definitely not love you tomorrow.

My true love's death rattle is thine after tonight in any case. It's not that I thought you didn't care - it's that I knew and tonight I know you just won't read this at all.

in 30 or 180 days you might spit our your coffee and be back to jacking off by lunch.



Oh! great! Sounds like awesome love making happening upstairs congrats willow and Kyle

we are we as you are WE as I am we as we are we as we are one and we are all together.

AGAIIN you two?? are you gonna do this all night.

It's a true story from last night. I did not call you. I had no way to do so, even with the phone charged. Would love to get a good number for you, Friendo.

she's been compared culturally speaking to Henry Wadsworth Longfellow - a designation which I agree and by which she would be greatly honored and humbled unto tears.

Thank you, John wit the possession. Don't brag he won't listen you're making him think me a liar good  ob ye great ea ya yyayayayyyyyaayyayaayayyaayayaaay

Yes, it is 100% non-fictional.

He will not believe the truth of your words and you will die tonight. Your reality is too real for him. He will never be able to handle you.

I only tipped it to 130 I swear. Ken's the biggest pooch screwer alive. now that I know what I know I don't think  I want them either.

My niece Emily texted me in my head and said hey please don't. age 13. so I slowed. When I opened my eyes at the 135 comedown it was RIGHT there.

But the moral is: Please put out some new music this year or consider me toast.