so many times i like to stay up alone and play on my phone almost never interacting cause i surely end attacking some poor lonely dude just trying to talk with no tact at all and i take it the wrong way and then i react with the burning hot fury of a thousand dying suns and nobody cares cause they know i’m not one they care to fuck with but then I pull a will smith and I become legend while I lean off of the edge and I realize that my name is not known all that well and that makes me jump back from the pit of hell the fire is hot but not yet i am not ready to go cause there’s yet so many here to show what i got…
what i got aint alot it’s really quite small and now you’ll hear my prefrontal cortex speak it’s not me not at all. ive tried my whole life to just shut that bitch down but that bitch got my throat and now im the clown…and i’m in a small car that I don’t want to drive with about six or 7 big tall lady guys all dressed in suits made of primary colors and yeah how they laugh but they hate one another and while they are laughing get stabbed in the back by their very best friend such a vicious attack but it’s all okay in their urban decay and their mac and their fucking too faced smashbox brigade.
ok…I’m now back to me and I can see that this e tv is not for me. Id rather the forensic files put in piles for me to swallow won’t be so hollow as the shit that’s on and everyone follows.
I’ve never been a leader or a follower, i’ve always been a swallower…to be honest.
just taking it in, with much chagrin and always much to my displeasure.
But see now I’m almost to the end of my life, I’ll never again be anyone’s wife, or anyone’s friend so a bitch cannot grin while I’m pulling that knife…and I’m honestly thankful to not do that again…I’ve had enough…this life has been rough and quite thankfully few were the cuffs that bound my arms and my legs but they still clamped down on my head and honestly if i could go back and choose which one I’d lose…
I’d guess it’d be my freedom cause to do it again, I won’t pretend that my heart I would refuse.
I need to go to bed but I’ve stayed up all night, got plans for tomorrow which are so outta sight…but now I realize that tomorrow is today and I’m getting so tired hoping it’s not last friday when i almost got fired cause I stayed up all night .
Here’s the definition of irony: My blog actually making me more money than my YT channel…the channel I want to say I’ve thrown my heart and soul into….but…um…I think that would be a lie.
I actually throw way more soul into this unkempt blog.
When I feel like writing, I write.
With the channel, I’m watching the analytics and seeing graphs and charts and shit and I’m like, OMG….I GOT TO MAKE A VIDEO, I GOT TO MAKE A VIDEO….
This blog is so much more relaxed, and I love that. But ironically…I tell just as much or more truth, albeit in a fucked up dysfunctional way, on my channel. I have many fans (mostly people on the list that goes out to the neighborhoods) on YT, and those fans are accruing me money. But more than that, I get to tell my story to those, WHO HAVE AN EAR TO HEAR, not to judge, will get.
I do not breastfeed at all.
The truth is, my breasts wouldn’t make enough milk to feed my own children longer than 2 weeks. I even rented the expensive pumps, and everything. I never could breastfeed.
all alone I am teaching myself to stop being paranoid stop being so afraid…
Athena, you’re so bright they got to throw shade
but my positiveness helps not one little bit
cause I become afraid and I turn into shit
I become catatonic
from drinking the tonic
that’s laced with the juice
that was loosed from a goose….
and that goose is me
who was once the ugly duckling
my mommy was gone
so i had no suckling