A wise woman once told me something that I’ll never forget. Well, I forget how she actually put it, but it was something about depression, and the cure — no, the reason for some depression is that maybe, just maybe, there’s someone out there you need to punch and you’re just not doing it, for whatever. You’re scared to admit the depth of your anger, or ever since that karaoke accident you’re having trouble making a fist.

I thought about that, for like a whole week. Thinking that if I could just put my finger on exactly who that person was who I subconsciously wanted to punch in the fucking head but was instead taking that healthy impulse for self-defense and painfully sublimating it and directing that anger inward and becoming so miserably blog-writer’s-blocked that I eioa ai;ohgW GNDFIoagi.

So I was sitting here the other day, wondering why I felt like taking this goddamned site down, and I decided to do a little self-examination. I made a list! List-making had the delightful side-effect of allowing me to step off and observe The Misery from the POV of an interested but disengaged spectator, which technique works wonders, if you can manage the mental bifurcation without freaking out that doing so will precipitate some sort of psychic episode. ONE NEVER KNOWS, DOES ONE.

Things That May Be To Blame For A Certain Tension In The Blogular Air

Q: Is it close to your Special Lady Time?

A: When ISN’T it?

Q: Has anyone close to you — oh, I don’t know, DIED recently?

A: You know, it’s interesting. Once both my parents had left this vale of tears I realized that, given the oppressive silence in which I grew up, starting the blog was a huge step for me not just in finding a public voice, but in getting my parents to fucking listen to me for once. That may sound a leeetle crazy, but believe me: you have no idea. I had to start a public blog, in a space my father could not control, to start figuring out who I was. And now that the chief executors of My Silence are gone, it took awhile for me to figure out what my motivation for keeping up this site was. I’m free in a way I’ve never experienced before, and I’m still working on figuring out what that means. Infinite Summer ended up helping a lot. But: to be continued.

Q: Are you under incredible financial strain?

A: Yeah, but that’s about to turn around, motherfuckers!!

Q. Has anyone acted like a vicious, ignorant, lying cunt to you online lately?

A: Gee, I don’t know, I don’t normally seek out that sort of stupidity.

If you, personally, can answer affirmatively to any of these questions along with me, why not take a look at this adorable picture before you punch anyone JUST YET:

Yay!

But you can’t punch that adorable little toddler, can you? No! What an awful thing to even think of*! That child model did nothing to deserve your wrath. The child’s mother, however, should be strung up and burned for exploiting her child, right? Are you with me? I don’t have a picture of the mother, though. And even if I did I know you don’t want to ruin your computer by slugging it, especially with that cast on your arm because of the whole karaoke thing.

No, what I’m going to do is print out a copy of that adorable picture and burn it. Then I’m going to flush the ashes down the toilet and visualize them flowing toward the healing, forgiving sewage treatment plant. Ahhh.

Life’s too short not to blog about it in painful detail, amiright? Right. Let’s move on!

*I can’t believe you! I may have to unfollow you just for reading that sentence. And this one. STOP IT! ABUSER! CHILD ABUSER! CHILD PHOTO THOUGHT ABUSER!