As it seems that I’m going to keep writing for this psychofest, I think it’s only right that we should go a little deeper. I want to grind my sharpened heel into the heart of the heart of the matter. I’m not saying I didn’t write about a lot of personal crap in the past but now I want you to know the whole Sterling Fassbinder shebang, the entire burrito gordito. The thing is, i.e., the caveat standing in the way of a true intimacy sparking between us, is that you’re never ever ever going to see my face. There. You have it in writing. I won’t ever be pulling a TRUE on you, so don’t get your hopes up.

( I know you heard I was beautiful.)

and, well, maybe I am…sometimes…

Jamie shhhhh!

Here’s the story, AKA “The Mess I’m In”, AKA “Why I can never show you my greasy mug”. There are too many things that I did back in the day that I still have to pay for and my continued not paying for them depends upon certain municipal authorities not finding out where I am currently residing. Ya dig?

Let’s leave it at that for now. I want to start with a different secret.

See if you can stay with me.

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