I've been on vacation for a week now and haven't written a single thing. That's really disappointing, but the truth is, I really don't have anything to say right now that isn't rehashing the same stuff I've been talking about since I started this blog in the first place. Maybe I should just shut this thing down, keep my pissy little complaints to myself. I feel like all I'm doing is whining and bitching about things that, in the end, aren't important. So my wife won't let me dress as a woman. Big fucking deal. It's not like she has let me control a single part of my own life for a decade now, so why should this be any different? What the actual fuck did I expect? And now that I've got this shitty illness to deal with, she's acting like I'm one of our kids, treating me like I'm a fucking idiot and incapable of taking care of myself. Good times.
So, dear readers, what do you want from me? I wish I had some options for you to choose from, but fuck... I don't even know what I want from myself anymore.
Title is from "Keep Talking" by Pink Floyd.
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