So what’s a story, what is it? Basically, it’s a carnival ride. The reader is the mark. They gives you they money and they takes the ride. An’ it’s all fun, it’s all whoo-hoo and tee-hee until them lug nuts slip and your story collapses in a heap of blood twisted metal because you didn’t assemble your story too damn sober, that's for sure.
So whaddya do? Are you gonna do the man thing, man up and says to theys family and all: I am sorry about your loved ones and all. My poppa always told me I ain’t no good and when I look deep inside that’s all I feel. I caused death and pain in this world, but that was an accident, much like my birth. Furthermore, I gotta theory about why this happens and my low self-esteem and self-medications and this is something Jesus tole me when he accepted my application.
No. Light out to the river like you always do. Sleep under the stars and let everybody forget you. Let the dead bury the dead.
Because that’s what a story is.