I used to be very sarcastic.

I used to not try new things and laugh at people who did.

I used to laugh at most everyone.

Now I’m very earnest.  I say what I think and I let myself feel things. I go out on a limb and speak my mind. Sometimes when I’m tipsy I’ll sing karaoke.

Most of the time it’s great, but right now it really fucking hurts.

I submitted a short story to my workshop and it got torn apart. It was a short story that talked about things that mean a lot to me. Someone said it made them feel second hand embarrassment.

I felt so so small.

I’m not sure what to make of it, I don’t think I really need to make anything of it. It is, and it hurts, and in one year I will barely even remember this happened.

For the record, I still think being earnest is worth it.

{I will always appreciate bad days like this/ they grant me a point of reference in regards to my happiness.}




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