Alarm C Issue of the Hour Which Inadvertently Demands Alarm C

I went through Innercept, holding close to the possibility that my memoir would make it big. It ended with a suicide attempt at first that would normally make it unpublishable. I had to deal with that situation and hold on to the God darsh fucking memoir the entire time I was at Innercept to avoid a sort of depression that crushed my soul to death. I held on, despite everything, the memoir would make it because that story was just so fucking weird and I thought that that story was just so fucking weird and it was also true. I eventually recovered, got back home, redeemed the content of Party Like Jesus by making it end differently. I let people read it, got no real feedback whatsoever. "Only interesting to people who know you." "Well-written." Means topic that is boring, keep trudging, Joey Jazz herself explained to me we just don't believe such a weird story. When the karmic debt with Matthew indicates go ahead Rachel, I publish the memoir. I receive no money for the memoir. None. "Well we think you gamble," a woman at Plaid Pantry indicates somehow. I would never gamble ever and that is a fact of mine that remains true no matter what. I have absolutely no interest in gambling and have never tried it even once. And then... Well some douchebag celebrated your favorite holiday November 19th this year. Are you happy Rachel? Are you happy Rachel? Shut up that's not my problem is all I have to say. Shut up. And I know what I am doing here.