I’m not hallucinating and I’m not paranoid. Yes, i smoke a little weed here and there. But I’m not imagining the things i see and hear going on. Right in front of me! I know that I’m not stupid and i know when i am in an awkward situation. I know when the focus has turned to me and i know when I’m not wanted or welcomed.
I know that Saturday, i went to a family BBQ and the attention was focused on me for some reason. It was to celebrate my cousin’s graduation and the other’s birthday. I know that complete strangers were talking shit about me, right in front of me. And i said not a word. I didn’t want to make a scene. I know what i saw and what i heard!
I know that my ex tried to set me up with some chicken shit broad to get me fucked up in West Haven two yrs ago. I know what i saw and heard and what the fuck happened. How did complete strangers know i was going to be on Campbell Ave to set me up to get ambushed by complete nobodies. I swear, i know what i saw and i know what the fuck happened. I was there.
I know that i got robbed last summer as a fucking set up. By who? I have no clue but i will be seeking my revenge on the parties involved.
I know that back in April, HE called me after going over a year of not communicating with me. He said it was to apologize but i know better than to play fuck boy shit. I had a dream of him, right before he placed that phone call and those texts. I know why he really called. I’m not stupid. I know that HE was parked outside my house one night in a gold car. I know that he sent some fat ugly white bumafuck bitch, walk into my job, to have me pressed! And I still acted like a lady and said not one word, nor made a scene, unless I FELT IT WAS NECESSARY to do so! I know what i have seen and what i have heard. I know what has happened right in front of my face.
I’m kind of all over the place. But I know what has been cleared! So why does my life have to be the deadly example? What did i ever do to anyone, to make them have to remind me, that they are all better than me? Who the hell made you almighty God and wonderful, that it’s ok to put me down? If you don’t want me around, do me a favor and put the bullet in my brain. I’m sorry that i don’t have the guts to pull the trigger on my own self!
Not trying to be funny, sounding like LL Cool J, but it is true. I need love. Why is there so much fake love and real hate out there in the world? Why can’t motherfuckers be honest and real with you? You meet a person and they seem all genuine to your face. But the moment you turn your back, they’re fake as fuck! And I hate that technology gets involved in this fuckery. Texting is the most ignorant way of communicating. Never say what they mean, mean what they say, or use dumbass emojis. I will never know how a smiley face implies as direct conversation or of how you’re truly feeling. Why did it become so complicated for us to have a decent conversation today? When did it become cool to be a habitual liar? A manipulator? A sociopath? This is cool?! This is an abomination, and I want no parts of it. I want for every fuck nigga and punk ass bitch to leave me alone! I want every man to stop begging for my pussy, if you think you’re only going to get one good use of it. Believe me, it’s had EVERY dumb ass coming back, STUCK ON STUPID AS FUCK! Not that I’m broadcasting or anything. But WHAT IN THE FUCK?! There are things that I want and need and with the way the world is working, none of you are right for me. Even as a friend, I want no parts in you. I don’t need to be robbed again, of things that I’ve worked too hard for. I don’t need another knife placed in my heart. Don’t you understand, I’m already a fragile person?! Why make someone hate themselves for being themselves? Don’t kiss me, smile in my face, say & do things to make me think you want to be around, when we both know you don’t. See, my issue is that people think I don’t see the signs and road blocks. I’ve seen them loud and clear and a gazillion times from the bitch or nigga before you. Trust, I am very well caught up! And I have learned my lessons. I’m growing from those lessons. I may still have to shed tears, but these are my tears of the pain and sorrow. And don’t take them as a sign of weakness. Because no, I’m not weak! I’m still a fighter! But I’m fighting in my own way. I’m gaining my old strength back and some new strengths in my process. No one knows my internal exterior, simply because no one has ever been interested. Well one day, someone will be interested. They’re going to want to know all of the whos, whats, whys, whens, wheres, and hows… And hopefully, I will be willing to give them all of those answers. Hopefully, they’ll want me to be an open book, and read between the lines. I hope that they’ll allow me to cry, and not judge a single tear that falls down my cheek. I hope they’ll like every wrinkle in my frown, or how rosy my cheeks get when I crack a smile. Understand that we all have flaws, and that we aren’t perfect, and that we all have a past, but thinks I’m wonderful overall. I want there to be love. Let our souls connect. Our eyes to meet. And our minds to intellect. I want to believe it’s out there. But when all you’ve ever seen is hurt, rage, lies, pain, anger, deception, distraught, and disasters… Can I still believe it’s amongst me?! Is love a real thing? Or is it just another way to make a dollar?