fromthemouthofmoi

I hold many secrets of those that I love and for those that I could care less about. I hold these secrets because half of them I have forgotten and the other half, I know, that should I reveal them in anger or flippancy, it will be me that stands alone looking ill-bred. Merida is run amok and rampant with Gringos that love to gossip. I always expect this behaviour from people who stand before hallway lockers, dialing combination numbers, while acne wreaks havoc upon their faces. I am never expecting this faux forte from people who are my age. Plainly spoken, I feel devastation when I witness gossip. When I am asked to participate by answering a question or when I find myself overhearing it, I can feel the blood rush to my face with anger. I knew my mother was a hypocrite when I sat in the kitchen of her Vancouver apartment and overheard her bad-mouth another woman, from the living room, with what was gossip. I felt so inflamed that I jumped from my seat and asked her how she coul