Sometimes I read the comments on other people's writing,
Poring over twisty noodles mixed with olive oil and parmesan cheese (the cheap kind),
Mixed with turkey sausage and sauteed pears (I ran out of onions),
And I say aloud,
"Fuck them. I'm not like that. And I shouldn't try to be."
I know I'm right,
But it's the same fucking people (or bots, or what have you) who make me upset
When they don't comment on my writing.
Everyday, everyday,
I tell myself it takes years to complete a masterpiece,
Then I google how long it took Picasso to paint Guernica:
One month.
One month.
My ears are popping.
One month.
Fuck the Internet.
