A Public Announcement
It seems as if old drama never dies, so to speak, and the wake from one hell of a boat that plowed through my life several years ago is still in motion.
It is humorous that the parties affected- myself and two others primarily- all are displaced from the epicenter of drama, i.e. Sacramento. I, in San Francisco, the other two hundreds of more miles away, and yet here comes a merry reunion via the lunatic concoctions of some poor soul's depraved mind.
I would have rather brushed this off, save for one inconvenience;
It seems secondly that a fake myspace account may have been made for me.
I haven't done any investigating, and don't plan on it.
But- if someone could be so kind as to pass this message along to persons whom, if contacted, could be caused unnecessary drama.
Primarily Sean.
I don't want to and definitely don't need to come home halfway through next month after spending a lovely time abroad only to find angry messages from all sorts of friends, old lovers and ex-boyfriends who were messaged by "me".
Enough of all that.
Writing it out makes me feel three years younger.
Now if you could excuse me, I am going to go have a good vomit and then smoke a cigarette so as to remind myself this is surreal and therefore unreal.
It is humorous that the parties affected- myself and two others primarily- all are displaced from the epicenter of drama, i.e. Sacramento. I, in San Francisco, the other two hundreds of more miles away, and yet here comes a merry reunion via the lunatic concoctions of some poor soul's depraved mind.
I would have rather brushed this off, save for one inconvenience;
It seems secondly that a fake myspace account may have been made for me.
I haven't done any investigating, and don't plan on it.
But- if someone could be so kind as to pass this message along to persons whom, if contacted, could be caused unnecessary drama.
Primarily Sean.
I don't want to and definitely don't need to come home halfway through next month after spending a lovely time abroad only to find angry messages from all sorts of friends, old lovers and ex-boyfriends who were messaged by "me".
Enough of all that.
Writing it out makes me feel three years younger.
Now if you could excuse me, I am going to go have a good vomit and then smoke a cigarette so as to remind myself this is surreal and therefore unreal.