You have never given a damn about anything going on in my life. You have never asked me about my writing, my passions, my college experiences, my family, my friends, my favorite bands, my favorite books, the foods I just can’t stand, or why I want a puppy so bad after not being able to fathom that option after Patches died. You have never been there for me, you have never cared.
But, now you have the audacity to send me an email saying that my language is inappropriate, unworthy of your “friendship” on a social networking site. This is your way of not condoning anything I type, but really this is your little power surge to say you do not condone me. You never have and you never will and I already knew that. But fuck you for telling me what to do, what to say, what to think. God forbid I say “cunt” in your presence, spell out the words for you to read. I must hate my own sex for thinking of such a word, saying it out loud. Oh, and what must I think of myself for condoning such language, such vulgarity.
Words are not bad. Words have never been bad and they never will be. We create the meanings behind everything we say. Semantics flux with popularity. You take offense to my words, and I take offense to your silence - your carelessness, your disrespect, your hate.