Fake Love/Real Hate

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?

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Fake Love/Real Hate

The Road to Recovery

Fighting depression, trying not to commit suicide in oncoming traffic, and holding back screams from the pain of cramps and an upcoming menstrual cycle… Life has been tough this past week. With following lame job leads, and attending the stupid monthly visit to the Man. I don’t know much worse my life could get. People thinking that I’m crazy, I decided to have a little movie marathon. Deep Cover, King of New York, Dog Day Afternoon, Scarface, Communion, and Beetlejuice. All powerful movies, with very convincing men in very insignificant situations. Especially in Communion. Why haven’t the aliens come for me yet? Bastards!

The plus side, I did meet someone new. And of course, I think he’s great. He made me laugh, which seems to be a hard thing to do these days. But with God’s awesome planning of life, there would be an issue. He was sent to me, only to leave me! Thanks to the European corruption of the United States, he’s being sent away. I promise to hold him down, but I fear my lifestyle will continue to drain me further into the gutter. Could I really keep him interested while he’s away? He says there’s no one else, but with my experiences with guys; statements that form from the mouth are usually false! And if it is true, can I narrow myself down to him? Situations like this makes my mind want to broaden my horizons and explore more options. But my heart, wants to settle. Hearts are stupid and so are the people that use them! Maybe that’s why people get stabbed in them often?

Because my heart has been stabbed, stomped, and kicked around so many times, I decided to add another story called Let Them Eat Cake. Based on true events, of course. There’s a little clip of one of my favorite chick flicks, Marie Antoinette. The way they lurk at each other, makes me think of a happier time. When things were good way back when. When I was able to smile and not have a single care in the world. Writing has been my way down the road to recovery. I hope someone accepts and appreciates it, like I do. Because I don’t know what else I can do to occupy the conflict between my heart and mind…

The Road to Recovery