Papercuts

Standard

That’s what I have to show for my summer so far.
I don’t know WHAT made me think I should do a show.
Especially with friends.
I mean, I’m gonna hate them and they are going to hate me,
which seems to defeat the entire purpose.

Honestly— I could and would happily do it all on my own
if I could just get them to respond and say whether or not they
got a message about rehearsal. What does silence mean?
To me it silence means cancel the damn rehearsal and don’t waste the piano player’s time.
But, no.
Apparently it means please continue to harass me so that when you finally
reach me I can say “oh of course” with that “aren’t you silly for not being able to
read my mind” tone of voice.
Actually that’s only the subtext for one conversation.
Even if I said “hey maybe . . . ” and you said “should be ok”
can we get a confirmation.
Courtesy eludes most of humanity.
Or at least the portion of humanity that I manage to make contact with.

This summer is a nauseating waste of energy.
But I am pretty determined, so it’s going to have to kill me before I quit.

End of Rant

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