I understand Tillie Olsen. Complain or type multiple expletives into this little blank box: that is the writing decision I am faced with this evening. Why should I be small? I'll do both, quick and dirty so no one gets hurt. My lower back is on fire, like I have two glowing pieces of sharp-edged coal rolling around at the base of my spine. This means I can expect to begin bleeding precious, ruby red blood soon. And shit, I'm fucking tired.   ¶ 8:35 PM