The awkward moment when you’re so emotionally repressed
that it’s all you can do not to cry because the guys on Pawn Stars don’t wanna buy some pitiful old man’s worthless John Wayne merchandise collection.
All. Day.
For days.
Or weeks, I’ve lost track.
I have so much to say to people that are there. But I say nothing much.
And waste my time attempting to help people who in my mind are worse off than me. In reality we’re all probably in about the same boat.
I just want to heal the world, but it’s rejecting new parts and I watch as pieces, bigger and bigger, fall away.
