Ranting isn't fun; it sometimes isn't healthy, but I do hate when I enjoy a good rant. It brings the closet narcissist in me to center stage. The one that always smiles for pictures, dances for attention, and sings for envious adoration.
Sometimes even the words I say won't fit together perfectly, or make much sense--they just spit out snippets of bothersome information. Too bothersome for even me.
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