This is a scheduled post planned to be published at 1487618575000 at 1487618575000
Maybe, I am not a writer
to you, but to Aristotle and to myself, I am.
I don't want to be anyone's secret or source of embarrassment, anymore. Or pain. Which is not to say, I don't enjoy writing things that shove it right in their face. Anyone. You can, you do, too. No worries - we're all still breathing. Word(s.)