Sunday, March 21
In ma head, when I’m feelin’ dire & I feel that mortals frustrate me, I talk to him before I sleep. He is he. Not that he is nice. I shout @ him & I’m usually mad @ him. Tho’ he isn’t responsible fo’ wutevr shitty stuff am in, I blame him juz tha same. I’d like to believe that I’ve taken things in stride… an ex best friend shruggin me &ma need to talk away, anotha one leavin tha country w/o tellin’ me, ma inability to defend ma’self if life depended on it, & many otha thangs... but I find that juz a slight tardiness from him & immediately, I’ll fault him witout consideration. I blame him fo’ not bein’ here yet whoevr he is.
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