Wounded by a good friend (opens in new tab)

Feeling, today, the mediocrities of my life press down hard on me, crushed flakes of butterfly between pages of leatherbound. Feeling, today, like I am boring and predictable, that is, the fate expected for everyone, except for me. See how deep my ego runs? At least I’m honest about it? Or am I? Don’t believe everything I write. I sure don’t.