Scabs

Hey there buckaroos. Old Uncle Spanky has been a bit obsessed lately. Sorry if I have been distant and distracted. 

See. there is this story I have had brewing for literally years. And the end came to me yesterday. I never knew the end. and it was so simple. not elegant but exactly what it needs to be.

The middle though? 

I am picking scabs on my soul to find this. opening old wounds to remember the feeling. I do not fucking like it very much. it is uncomfortable. Everything is a Goddess damned joke to me, nothing is sacred, nothing is too far for a laugh. 

even if I am the only one who laughs. 

The dating thing is going well I suppose. Two ladies seem interested. And the perfect part is they travel for work so there is no fear of anything real developing. At least for months. 

I can fade away before then.

But one of them really has my curiosity. I am not madly in love. Or in some kind of spiral. but i am curious. and that shit is deadly. ask the cat.

Brady said I was texting and smiling wistfully when I talked to her. I was not aware of it. But I was doing it again last night. and today. 

Abort! Abort!

So I am picking scabs. And smiling wistfully. I am in a good place doing bad things. 


The story of my life.

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