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I am going to write about my true feelings. There is no point in further ironic babble, or silly tales of scatological adventure. Instead I have to really attempt to lay out the true shit. And that, I値l admit as my first act of truth telling, is something I知 not accustomed to. It痴 not that I知 a liar (though I do lie when I need to), but that I would normally conceal my inner life, the arguments I have with other people in my head, the sometimes disturbing obsessions, the sentimental reflections. I present instead a regular front, a curious semblance of my inner self that mentions none of the foolishness, admits to none of the private details. So to now divulge them in an open and honest way would really be a revelation, if not for you, who would probably yawn at what you perhaps would consider bourgeois neuroses, then for me. It痴 as if by surrounding my secrets and attacking their ramparts with the brutal siege machines of candor and prose, I will not only defeat the criminals within the walls, but set free the rest of me held hostage by those brutes. Sincerity will crawl out from his dark hole like a little boy, smudged and in tattered robes, but now standing free, squinting in the glare of the unfamiliar sun. Beside him honor will be working proudly, unafraid to show her face in public any longer. And with this shift, this open arrival at my inner reality, incarnated now in the flesh of a true man, I値l take my place in the pantheon of total douche bags.
Date Written: October 14, 2005
Author: Ewan Snow
Average Vote: 4