First of all... she's fucking lucky her irresponsible almost 60 year old ass didn't have a child kidnapped because of her negligence. Seriously it could of been one of the kids. But no, it was our dog. And she had the nerve to cry. I hope whomever took her treats her better than she was there. Who leaves kids to attend to themselves? This is why her name is Crystal. Not mother, not mom, not mommy dearest. This person who left me to be molested and raped and a victim of incest my whole life never learned any fucking lesson at all. Fucking disgusting. That she would be left in charge of lives at all.
IT COULD OF BEEN ONE OF MY NIECES OR NEPHEWS. IT COULD OF BEEN A CHILD.
It is not okay. The complete absence of care is not alright at all. My Nana said she had 7 kids over. And clearly she shouldn't of if she could not provide adequate care. I manage kids. I teach 10-15 2 and 3 year olds every Sunday. I spend my free time volunteering with youth. Mentoring and monitoring them. Never has one escaped past me. Let alone I had 4 dogs at one point, never, not once was one misplaced or stolen. The worst that ever happened was benga leaving the back door open and the neighbors calling me while I was 45 minutes away, and I speed home to get them in 15 minutes, and Lenny is just waiting on the porch for me to get home. Never could I imagine thinking these kids were old enough on their own to play outside. They range from 2-8?????
It makes my blood boil. How people can be so irresponsible and on top of that expect sympathy. It's gross.
Also this whole Isaac situation (fake Tom) is irking me too. I still ignore him the majority of the time. He still thinks he loves me. When he says it I say thank you?? What am I supposed to say? Hey I now you're still catfishing another woman as Tom. Also 4 other men as 2 different porn stars and frankly I can't believe anything that you say. Like at all. And he asked me yesterday what I was doing and I told him I was writing in my blog. He to the point of arguing with me demanding I tell him how he can read it too..
No. I dated fake cancer on and off for 3 years. Who censored me to the point I didn't want to write anymore. It literally has taken me years to want to write again. And to be completely honest in my writing. No fear. The last thing I want to do is listen to some random butthurt man on why I should filter myself.
I don't want to filter me. I don't want to worry about anyone's feelings before I type something. I want my brain to be free to say whatever it wants to. This is therapy to me. This is the daily jumble I like to get out, it's been helping me sleep better. The more I write the less I worry about. It reminds me of that retarded infomercial... Set it and forget it. That's how my brain feels about writing. I get it all out here and I don't have to spends 2 hours a week telling someone in an expensive chair what pisses me off and why, sugarcoating it in the first place to turn around and hear, You really don't give yourself enough credit. You got up today, that's an accomplishment.
No, it's the bare fucking minimum and sometimes I am not even strong enough to do that. I don't want smiley faced stickers and two thumbs up.
So this is my safe place. To say all the horrible abrasive shit no one actually wants to hear come out of me, on top of if they do labeling me as fucking insane. I'm not crazy (although I might be who knows) I just don't care for the stupidity of the world.
And this guy begging me for my link. Nope..... he asked if I was really telling him no... Yes I am
I don't care if strangers know what the hell goes on in my head. Sorry but no one who would actually randomly read this could say anything or try to guilt trip me into being emotionally dishonest.
But if real Tom reads this.... Don't you want to run away together? Aren't you tired of being funny for everyone? Don't you know you have more to offer?? Don't you want to talk about books? And go on actual adventures? In the woods where no one knows where you are? We could go fishing, and have bonfires, and I could sing to you, badly. And read poetry softy. I would take the soft blade of my fingers and gently stroke your chest. No cameras. No autographs. No pictures. I could show how much the rest of the world doesn't exist, at least until you ready for them again. And then I could hide and wait for you to need rest again. Loving me takes zero dollars. And I would bake you cookies. And we can paint together. I could be your best friend. I could exhaust you sexually in the middle of nowhere. I know you love what you do, But I could be what you love to do too. *This has been another fantasy brought to you by Melissa. *Also on the very slim chance you do ever read this, I do know these things are seemingly impossible, and I blame Isaac the Nigerian for putting these ideas in my head. I pictured them with you so many times thinking I was talking to you morning, noon, and night, that it's hard to think of other good things now. I maybe had a crush on you when I was 14, but I did forget about you for so long. And I wonder now why the universe put all this in my path. *And Also Also.... One of your eyes opens more than the other and I don't know why but when I see a picture of you now, that is my favorite thing. And the more I think about these things the more and more angry I get with the Nigerian.
Here are the convos of him trying to talk him into letting him read my blog.
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