Foremost in my thoughts today is that this is he last day of my 34 turns around the Sun and that my lover of thirteen moons has dissolved his connection with me. I think sometimes they call it "breaking up". I'll go get my cellphone and relive the gyst for you ( will correct the spelling errors and punctuation errors) :
- $350 it is. U can get a life and forget about me. - I mean it too. enough. - Sick and tired of playing the evil dude 2 ur long suffering martyrdom - Such a regal victim. Sympathies all around. - Get stoned. get laid. get over it. I'll give you $350, and I am history. - You You You. th'hell do U need me 4 - Yes to be the elegant victim. - Why me? Plenty other assholes where I come from. Cheers. - [Reply to my: That u would think I would accept a gift from u * given with such bitterness and venom * astounds me]: - No gifts then. Now forget about me seriously. Wish u much happiness and luck in ur various endeavors and more interesting peeps 2 bitch
Ah, when I'm hurt and state it, I am unfortunate in that I do not realize that others think I'm "playing the victim." Another case is this lover thing - of someone taking MY words my REVEALED insecurities and self-name-calling and using it against me. Perhaps I am unloveable. These things my mirrors say are like parrots, but I'm doing the feeding. --
One of my various endeavors is to record me singing Ben Fold's version of "Bitches Ain't Shit" naked and real.
Uncock my shit. I'm heartbroke, but I'm still looked. Bitches ain't shit but ho's and tricks. Lick on these nuts and suck the dick. Gets the fuck out after your done, and I hops on my ride to make a quick run.
Waiting for Mark to get home. We'll likely get drunk - hopefully get stoned, and live life like we got it.
There was something in the airt that night. It felt so right NOSTALGIA.