• I was going to write a letter.

    by  • June 22, 2011 • * Safe for Work *, Resolution • 0 Comments

    I was going to write a letter, on here as it happens.

    I was going to write a letter about how much of a bitch you are. How you took something I said which you didn’t agree with and you twisted it. You changed it, morphed it, distorted it, mangled it, mutated it, adapted it and transformed into something I would never say. Because you didn’t agree.

    Like I say, I was going to write a letter, but then the news came on and I just so happened to glance up from my laptop and become absorbed in what the reporters were saying. In fact, no, it wasn’t a reporter, I stand corrected. It was a mother. About 49 I’d say. She’d been crying and her husband held her hand as the reporter held the microphone tentatively to her face.

    Her baby’d gone missing. It wasn’t actually a baby, as in a gurgling, squirming new born life. But her child, her 19 year old daughter. Who had a flat and a Boyfriend and a job and friends and a life and soul and commitments and wishes and dreams and hopes and aspirations and people who loved her and cared for her and were missing her so much. Then the news ended, quite abruptly while I was in thought. It then occured to me.

    I don’t give a fuck about you and what you did and what you did to my words. Because all I did was state my opinion on an inconsequential topic, nothing of any substance. I acctually feel a bit ashamed of myself, that I have felt so angry all day at the thought of people being unsure or confused about what I’d said and whether it was real, when today that woman, that mother went on national television. Not as a famous actress or performer or Tv personality. Someone with probably no experience of tv and without having done her make up again after it had been smudged as she cried. and she poured her heart out.

    Because she also wanted people to hear what she had to say and listen to it in the way in which it was meant.

    So fine. Say what you will and do what you want with my words, because those words weren’t ones that matter, and our situation isn’t one that matters either.

    I just hope in the furture you don’t mess around with someone else’s words. Words that are important and have a purpose. Because you’ll do alot more damage than you did today.

    So I won’t bother writing a letter…all my inspiration for it has gone.

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