saint of sixth; prose; writing

‘It’s not like it’s going to kill me’


Listen to the author read it to you
Read by Daniel Thompson

No, I get it. Don’t touch me, I’m fine. I’m in my 30s and I grew up in the sexually cannibalistic emo cliques of the 2000s that fucked with the emotional weight of borrowing CDs, so I’m used to this sort of coldness. 

But I never trusted any of those people. 

I trusted you. 

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You who sat there and told me that I was comforting and made you feel beautiful and made you feel ugly and made you hate yourself and talked too much and was so sweet and you thought would be a good father and who was too self-centered for your love. 

And sadly, somewhere in that plethora of paradoxes, you probably got me a little right. 

But somewhere between Northern Lights, car rides, nights spent talking and disappointing shows, that all got lost in the ever-expanding gap between who we both thought each other were. 

Now, I think that if I was about to get hit by a car and you were the only person who could warn me about it, I still wouldn’t want to hear your voice. 

But I also still want to feel you holding me as the ambulance is on its way. 

And it burns me up still because all I want to do is hate you instead of half-loving the memory of whatever we were. 

This fickleness of feeling that you still inspire in me. 

Fuck it. 

Whatever. 

It’s not like it’s going to kill me.  

Ep. 27: Be cautious of overly generous men. Inside the Mind of Daniel Thompson

Recently, I saw something in a bar that reminded me of a story from my days in Madison, and why I am always suspicious of men who are overly generous with their money in a bar. Check out more of my work at saintofsixth.com.
  1. Ep. 27: Be cautious of overly generous men.
  2. Ep. 26: Two notes on being a gigging musician.
  3. Ep 25: Ego and the music scene
  4. Ep. 24: Stories I don't often tell.
  5. Ep. 23: Mark Ruffalo and the value of a little hope
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