I'm cranky, I'm tired. I've had 2 showers today and I need a third.

*sighs* I have this internet presence. I have a website that's supposed to be a safe place to say anything. I have an online journal (2 of them, actually) where I like to write about my life, and the way I see the world.

Guess what. I don't. I edit myself. I edit my fucking SELF to be less opinionated, less offensive. I feel bad when I post something that might be misconstrued. So I edit.

I don't talk about why I don't like certain places anymore. I don't talk about how it feels to see me and my life used as an example of something Wrong. I don't talk about what is said to me and why it hurts.

Why? Because of everyone else. Gotta play nicey nice all the fucking time. "Melesse" is smart, moody, a bit weird, but all in moderation. I'm not Melesse. It's my name in this digital universe. I'm Linda. Linda is touchy and really fucking smart. I spent most of my life having to sense emotions and tones. In other words I have a fine tuned empathic sense of the world around me.

If you don't want to know what Linda thinks, stop reading now.

So here goes.

I don't post on **** anymore because I don't like what it's become. I think it's become very cliquey and outright mean. I think to belong there you have to fit a certain profile, and god help you if you don't fit. I think it's become a place to agree not discuss. So I don't post. Period.

Another one, I'm not fucking stupid. I know what a luser tone sounds like. I know what "are you fucking stupid" sounds like unspoken. I can smell contempt. It reeks of a poison I know all too well.

Now for the one that's pissing me right off tonight. Don't come into my home, watch me with my child and use a clear example of my parenting to illustrate "No Discipline". Bite me. Hard. TV is NOT a major issue in my home. If my daughter wants to watch treehouse all day, I'm not going to fight her on it. It's NOT a discipline worthy offense. Want to see discipline in our fucked up little family? Tough. Nobody sees me seriously discipline my child. Ever. It's fucking humiliating for Sara, and her feelings take precedence over my desire to be approved of as a "good mother".

Never, ever call me lazy or sloppy. There is one person on the face of this fucking earth that has the right to make such harsh judgments on me. That person is me. If the man I am going to spend the rest of my life with dared say that to my face, he'd regret it. He doesn't anyways because he respects me and whatever I chose to do with my life. Nobody has the right to voice such shitty judgments about another human being. Think it, sure, but keep it to yourself. At least acknowledge the fact that the ONLY person that will ever know someone's commitment level to anything is them. I could talk until my head explodes about what my world looks like to me, what motivates me, what doesn't, what hurts, what heals, what I have to deal with everyday and you will only ever understand a tiny fraction of that. If you will never know the complete picture of my life, then you are UNABLE to make a sound judgment about my life. So take your lazy & sloppy and suck it up. Preferrably with the sound of my fiance telling me almost daily to not burn myself out. Oh sorry, I'm lazy and sloppy, what would I know of burn out?

Grammar police can bite my ass. I run every single post I make to hissyfit through spell and grammar check before I post just because I'm afraid that someone will latch onto a typo and rip me apart for it. Being able to spell and write grammatically correct sentances doesn't make you any fucking better than anyone else. My mother has been teaching english since 1963 (I think), and she has the most atrocious online spelling and grammar. She doesn't CARE. She knows enough to know it doesn't matter. In my not humble in the least opinion correcting someone's spelling and grammar online makes you look like a fucking arrogant idiot.

I'm a smoker. I'm not stupid. I'm actually literate. I can read the warnings on every pack of smokes I buy. So please do me a favor, don't tell me what I already know. Every time I light up a cigarette I am fully aware of the concequences of doing so. I KNOW I'm courting cancer. And yes, I do know what death from cancer looks like. I've seen it up close and held its hand. I'm addicted to a chemical I very stupidly started using. This doesn't make me a lesser human being.