All my life, I have been a hot slob. It’s who I am. It’s the way I’m comfortable. I tried to hide it but what was the use?
I was born this way.
My coming out was hardest on my mother, poor thing. She made comments like, you’ll grow out of it. I’m not too worried. Just wait until you have a place of your own.
While under my parents’ roof, I abode by their rules. I lived as closely to my natural lifestyle as possible without encroaching on their especially high standards of living. I didn’t want to embarrass them. I just wanted to be me.
I am incensed, enraged. I am what the kids would call shook.
I am more than incensed. I am murderous, toward a fictional character.
I just watched—for the first time—the movie The Great Gatsby.