i sat with my shoulders slumped.
uh.... um.....um... stop. sigh, begin again.
it is hard to lead alone.
why am i scared of being called a bitch?
why did half of everybody look like i was insulting their life?
why was i not smiling enough.
.
.
.
why is it so hard to verbalize your hopes and dreams.
the audience is unreceptive
i want to help you all so bad
but you are used to this being a fey democracy,
and i think we need to go a little communist russia and
use a dictator for a while, but shit, i swear i will be benevolent.
and when you can run on your own two legs i will set you by the river an watch you run for the fishes, and i will collapse on the river bed and work on my tan.
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