Swiss miss.
The nemesis and stalker of real writers and readers, aka: you and me. Roosting and lording in a decollaborative fashion over her house label of omni ignorance. The Illiteratis.
Formerly, abundance came here to nest.
She is up to no good again, swiss miss. Panhandling the system. Damn, what shall we do? Ghetto blast her out the city limits? Tried that. Listen to see if she has something today to say? Tried it. Accept and tolerate her? What choice do we have.
She's always there, like gum under the table.
Cannot pull her passport. Her license to quill. Under strategized pseudonyms and marketing blurbs straight out her mental vanilla extract suburbs. Gosh! I hate to be mean. But when someone is oozing self-centered fullness of being?
Leeching off my holy land, the word scene?
I find my mean girl comes decidedly back into creative being...
-to be continued-
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