What I Could Have Been Doing With My Life Besides Writing

Yes, this post is my whiny, baby-faced tantrum about yet ANOTHER rejection letter from a literary journal. This time Mixed Fruit Magazine decided my story was too shitty to grace the pages of their book and I really have to wonder- what's the freaking point? When I think of all the other paths I could have chosen instead of this fickle artist's life, I get so mad at myself!

I could be at the EPA right now, earning six-figures, shittin' on all you hos.

I could be putting mine and Slash's babies to bed right now. That's right- after years of being a BAND AID for GNR he & I would have gotten married. Shut up!

I could be living off the grid in Sicily, tending to an orange grove and having wine with breakfast.

I could be running a dance studio in Soho after a small stint as a video music ho.

I could be in Cuba enjoying the fruits of my labor as the revolutionary who ousted Castro.

So many other options. But NOOOOOOOO. I let writing lure me into this life of frustration, poverty and disappointment. What the hell was I thinking?

I should have listened to my mother.

*no smooches today*
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just...just...just whatever, man...