he sings me to sleep every nightt AHHHHHHH
thanks my c-half, its one of the bestest burf-day gifts
ive written and re-written this, unable to capture my emotions, without harming the emotions of others. What I felt? Immense anger. Ive always been a personal person, and for good reasons to as I can see today. If had it my way, if I got married no one would be invited. To me that’s not a social event. How I fell in love, in hate, in mistakes, none of it is anyone’s business unless I made it so.
I guess every idiot has its day, including me. I trusted someone. Odd, I had that doubt nagging me at the back. That’s the last time I give anyone a second chance. Alas, now its gone a step further, my life has been retold in some form. Sweet.
I could spew on and on about how angry I am and perhaps equalize the anger here, and so everyone knows. Whats it worth. That’s silly aint it? Im sure people have their explanations that even me in my fury can see. Im sure people have explanations for accidentally telling someone else your intimate thoughts, im sure people have explanations for hearing someone’s intimate thoughts and telling everyone else, even indirectly, yes im sure they do. None of them would satisfy me though.
Now bugger off, and let me grow old cynical, angry, and not trusting the world anymore. My anger is not because I couldn’t trust, but the irony that some people can think that private issues can be made public. In addition, sometimes it implicates other people than me. My life and the lives of other people are never public material.
There it goes. When and if, I get married, have kids, and die, you will be sent a postcard, if you’re lucky.
Thinking is the hardest work there is, which is the probable reason why so few engage in it.
Yours when anger doesnt even describe,