I may not know any of the closed door specifics going on around the scandal I dropped.

But I did get a text from Nem at the bar saying the groom was toasting.

So I don't feel as bad about the shit storm.

Wouldn't have changed any of my actions or decisions; but less of a morality strain, maybe.

I don't know, I just know I would be happy to also avoid being married off to a sadistic narcissist. Forever to have and to hold doesn't quite have the same meaning when kahones are involved.

At least none of the perimeter alerts around Mrs. V's have gone off yet; means no one's messing with the kids or any adults going about pushing consequences where they don’t belong.

Can't say the same for any technology built by this world in this world; but I don't even keep my smut history on those devices.

No one needs the specifics of fun ways to ride a dick.

Or emotional boners sustained by the creative genius of some really random people.

Having everyone in their grandpapy looking through my details trying to discern if I care enough to be a threat.

I do not.

This place has chocolate cake milkshakes. 

I'm good.

Chiling, chillaxing.

Crawling out of my skin.

Absolutely absurd. I had zero plans to leave the house this weekend. Since last week when I got super sleep deprived and tuned into bashing my head through a block of metal.

The fact that my credibility on accidents really doesn't do justice to moments of actual self destruction strikes me as an intimacy problem.

Rude.

but, now that people are watching my heat signature and paying attention to whether or not I behave. I have an inclination to go train.

Or buy a bunch of flowers at the florist's shop in wedding colors, not funerals. That might just be gremlin energy singing milk the chaos.

oh well, this fire doesn't need kerosene. So long as everyone behaves themselves.