*Apologies in advance to Juneau homies who may read this, I was not having an easy time to put it lightly, and the following angrrrrr totally had nothing to do with you. Of course, apologies may not be necessary as I imagine “yeah, whoofta, been there”, may be a common reaction from other Juneauites…
Leaving Juneau with the distinct feeling of fuck you. Not at anyone in particular. Not at the bitchy bartender from last night. Not at friends who didn’t bother to come bid me adieu. Not even at the woman singing to herself at 7am at the airport gate. But, seriously — who the hell does that?! I want to scream, “belt it out or shut the fuck up!!”. It’s like a tinny whiny sound, the same line, over and over and over… Rah. Fuck youuuuu.
Fuck you to the two people to my left, discussing a “friend” having a hard time and figuring her life out for her behind her back. Fuck you to everyone who said, “see you in two weeks!”, like I wouldn’t be able to make it outside of my hometown.
I am finally leaving… After four years of feeling lost in a place I know better than the back of my hand, I am fucking leaving. I was afraid (planning?) of feeling sad right now. Nostalgic for the times gone, and already yearning for the people I know I’ll miss eventually, but nope, right now, it’s just alllll kinds of “fuck you”. Fuck it all. Rahhh fuck youuuu.
You smothering poo of a small town, fuck you. Ah. Writing is good. FUCK YOU! Okay. My fuck you has turned into a “God bless ’em”.