Ugh, Ugh, Ugh.

The radio station called me a little after 6am, I thought they were calling at 7am. I was terrible. Overly-defensive, overly skeptical, when in fact I actually accept more about parapsychology than I think I presented. Christ. So now I am filled with self-loathing, YET AGAIN. I am tired of feeling like this. Like life isn’t hard enough, I have to hate myself for being human?? Enough already.

Ugh, ugh, ugh. What do I have pictures of to post … that might fit my mood. Nothing really. My pictures are all happy. Oh wait, here’s another dead person sign. These things are everywhere. Note to people who erect these signs: give us more to go on about the departed.

morris

Stacy Horn

I've written six non-fiction books, the most recent is Damnation Island: Poor, Sick, Mad, and Criminal in 19th-Century New York.

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