The bastards never stop sticking it to me. They’re always putting their things in my face, I hate voice recorders. “Say something else!” they cry. What if I don’t want to do it!? My life… It’s always the same things coming in and going out it seems. It’s like they’re just waiting for something else to slip out of my mouth, and throw it back in my face, making a complete mess of things. Can I help it if I speak my mind?

This one time I broke this thing off, stuck it back in, and realized it was worthless not attached to the rest of it. You just can’t force things to be as hard or as wide as you want. Pottery is difficult like that. I was trying to expand my horizons, reach in deep inside myself, explore, but no, they just swarm around me, milking me, for more quotes. I’ve never felt so used.

It all just kept ramming into me, until one night it all came spilling out . “LEAVE ME ALONE!” I said,“I CAN’T TAKE ANY MORE!!”

They all looked at each other and giggled, “That’s what she said”.