now_you_know raze he told me he was friendly with george stroumboulopoulos. he said he was going to a springsteen concert with george and a mutual friend. he was going to tell him about me and my music, plant a seed, and see what it grew into. he decided not to go to the show. he didn't tell george about me. nothing happened. he told me he was going to set me up with a friend of his. he said we were perfect for each other. we liked the same books. she was a psychology student. she was open_minded. he told me he was going to do that, but he set her up with one of his other friends instead. when he was helping jay book shows at the_loop and the fm lounge, he told me the two of them talked about having me open for ron sexsmith. they decided it wasn't a good idea. they thought i would upstage him. they went with a different local artist. someone who was a blander, safer choice. i played a show backing him up at a coffee shop. the editor of the university newspaper wanted to interview him. he refused. he called it an act of protest. he said he didn't like the way the newspaper treated their interns. (because slacktivism.) to try and fuck us over, the editor wrote a blurb in the paper advertising me as the headliner when he knew i was just playing second banana to someone else's ego trip. he didn't have to tell me any of these things. i would have been better off not knowing them. he knew that. he told me because he wanted to hurt me. he wanted to show me what i couldn't have. he wanted to shove my face in the wet shit of one indignity and missed opportunity after another. it amused him. people do this and call themselves your friends. and you believe them. for a while. he doesn't get to tell me anything anymore. 211003 what's it to you? who go blather from