Who's the "APRIL FOOL?"

Fuck, of course I am!  Who are we kidding here???

My dad, mother, all of them, say they're happy I won't be their problem?

They are the ones who have the problem.  I got my own place, and not ever can any of them say again, "Hey, bitch, sink or swim!  I am gonna walk away and NEVER HELP YOU AGAIN!  Well, ha, ha-go ahead now, because I can survive without ya just fucking fine!!!!   Gonna apply to finance a new laptop through Office Depot-not anything $2000 or anything, but fuck you, if I am gonna be played the fool for having to chase after you again and grovel just to survive.

Having RSD is ugly enough.  I disgust you, ok, no problem.  I can walk to.  Then you can't keep feeding the monster from within that gets you coming to my door to see what "help" I need so you can look down on me and feel superior, and Lord what you have and I don't over me?  Alright, ya go ahead and do that..

But do it from a distance.

Ya know, Mom was all "boo-hoo," oh so "Cry for me, I will miss my sick and troubled daughter."  Eh, whatever.  She is now sweating out what I have for so long--Will this doctor who is good at what he does "accept" her or not, because she is fucking on Medicare?  Ha, well don't count on it-learn to settle for what you can get in this life and that the grass is greener on the other side?

You think life is on a downhill slope because you live in a sunny state?
Well, it gets just as hot as it does cold.
RSD hurts as much in Southern United States as it does in Thee frigid weather of the fucking north.


So maybe I used you, sure, it's possible!!!!  But you used me to see how much more superior.  My scars tell a story, intricate, with so many twists and turns.  My story is one that will maybe get folks to pause for a moment to listen with interest.  I humbly shut up for a while...people may wait for the next one.....or they may at least remember the "Survivor" of maybe things she perhaps shouldn't be here to tell the tale.

But I am.  I do-with people who care to listen.  Otherwise-I am happy with a good book, quiet music, and my cool, dark room to be left to write.  Take a nap-chat with friends on the phone I care to talk to.

Those of falsehoods, people listen and forget.  It's black, many shades of gray, but no real color.  No truth, honesty and beauty to cultivate. 


LOL...only a lot of shit to fertilize.