Super Petty
If I were a superhero, I’d be an anti-hero and I’d be Super Petty.
I keep getting emails and texts from some cancer group I walked with and fundraised for at some point.
I kept texting unsubscribe and stop. I know full well it’s a human. I don’t care.
Boggles my mind how many “survivors” — e.g., children, friends and other people who supported those who DIDN’T survive — decide to fight on. Keep trying to lobby for a cure. Don’t want anyone else to die like their people did.
FUCK THAT.
I don’t want to die like that, sure. But why do I deserve any better? No one gave a fuck about my mom when things were still treatable.
I don’t give a fuck about anyone or anything now. Not people I don’t know. And especially, a lot of people I DO know.