I made the mistake once of answering a “friend” honestly about why I wasn’t on good terms with his friend. I felt I was as fair as I could be, while still preserving the key aspects of why the situation was so.

Instead of keeping this knowledge to himself – as he said he would, since he asked “in confidence” – he ran right back to her and told her everything.

She, of course, confronted me. I hate confrontation, and even more when I feel like I have conducted myself in an ethical way to begin with, or at least my best approximation of what others believe are ethics. (More on the debate of ethics later, perhaps.)

I have decided, since this last shining example of human stupidity (on his and my part both), to keep a few close confidants and to shut the rest of you out. This is why at times my writing here is so impersonal, or merely stream-of-consciousness. Yes, it is ye olde “a few people ruined it for the rest of you” but I finally learned my lesson. I finally figured it out. My dad would be so proud. He tried to teach this to me many, many years ago and I never got it.

I’m sharing this with you today because, of course, it annoys me to no end that I can’t just trust blithely anymore, and write whatever I want. Sure, I can technically write whatever I want, but it gets twisted up and to the wrong people in third-hand form, and then they come looking for me, confrontation in hand.

Not spilling everything isn’t a fuck-you. It’s a turtleshell so I don’t get fucked over.

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I acknowledge that I live and work on stolen Cowlitz, Clackamas, Atfalati, and Kalapuya land.
I give respect and reverence to those who came before me.