People could make jokes, say ‘good riddance’, or even write the most beautiful obituaries imaginable. Either way, I’d still be fucking dead.
Please don’t pretend that you’re a better person than me, just because you conform to the idea that people shouldn’t speak ill of the dead. It’s stupid, it’s archaic, and society is so far beyond the point of ANYTHING being sacred that I can’t believe this debate even exists.
No more sickening than her father cashing in on a bunch of traumatized schoolchildren, I wouldn’t have thought.
how about, instead of this ‘100 Happy Days’ garbage, we have a ‘100 days where people experience a normal range of emotions, and express that normal range of emotions on social media, without buying into the concept that their occasionally-unpleasant feelings are somehow unnatural and therefore must be ‘cured’ by purchasing lots and lots of consumer products and/or vastly-overpriced medicines’ challenge?
Sunset over the dunes, 05 February 2014.
So, I’ve ditched Australia indefinitely, in the hopes of finishing a novel or two.
I won’t be updating this blog much (if at all) during the overseas jaunt, but if you want to keep track of my adventures, please feel free to follow my travel blog: mattcookewantstoruletheworld
First post is linked below:
I remember the first time I was ever truly scared.
I was seven years old, sitting inside the office of our family physician, Dr. Keith MacArthur, and it had just been decided that I was going to be sent for an x-ray.
Now, to put this moment in context, there wasn’t any risk of broken bones at…