The Situation Right Now

http://m.news24.com/news24/SouthAfrica/News/full-statement-da-moves-to-impeach-zuma-following-constitutional-court-ruling-20160331


I'm not mad about this. As I said before, it's not about racism, it's about competency. I'd welcome a Black, a green, a purple, president, if he was a competent, selfless leader.

What my dad said the other day made a lot of sense to me. He said, with the atrocious job that Zuma has done as president, people have still voted for him and that's only because they support the ANC, not him. They are loyal to the ANC, not to him.

There's nothing wrong with loyalty, at all.

Blind loyalty, however?

That's something that I have a problem with. On every level. I've seen blind loyalty ruin family bonds, friendships and I've watched it ruin a beautiful country like South Africa.

Self-serving decisions.

Either way, I sincerely hope that something positive will come out of this.


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Whose Name Will Be on The Birth Certificate?

Made it through the day, without hurting myself! Even found the energy to crumb chicken breasts and potato wedges and grill the bastards. I wouldn't have bothered if it were just me at home but I had to bother. Offspring get hungry and start looking at you with watery eyes. There's just no good enough reason to put yourself through that. I mean, your offspring. 'Cause their hunger is what matters. Right? Yeah, yeah. You're just agreeing 'cause you're full.

Worse when they're gigantic. Thank goodness God had the grace and mercy to let us birth them at nine womb months old. Thank you for that, God. I speak for all women when I say, we're truly appreciative that fact!

It's still sorrrre! But it's better than trying to push a grown teenager out. Cervix's. No. Cervae. Hmmmmm? Hell is a buncha cervix called? Cerrrrrv----cervi----a?? One cervix, many.......? Damn. To hell with plural. THE cervix has limits.

Childbirth is amazing though. Isn't it, ladies? Don't all scream at once. Granted, it's not the first thing, or nineteenth for that matter, to fall outa your mouth when asked, "How do you like spending our time." That answer will never be, "Giving birth."

But I'm always fascinated by the way that once the baby is out, the pain is nowhere to be found! I didn't do the epidural thing when I gave birth. Not 'cause I'm superwoman or had a point to prove. But it just never crossed my mind. Might be because the thought of a long, thick needle in my back was too much for my brain to bear or it mighta been......naaaaah, if anything, it would be that! Needles. Scare me. Contractions? Should scare us all. Those mutha#*@+?s!?

They feel like someone took ya insides, tight fisted them and twisted! If my ex-husband fainted?! From watching me give birth, I swear I woulda been laying there pushing my baby out thinking of a random, but strong, name to put on their birth certificate 'cause there is no way! Like John Cena or something. Fuck it. He doesn't have to know that he was the birth certificate father of my children. But there's no way that my insides are gonna be grabbed and twisted and you're fainting like a b-i-t-c-h. I didn't say that word. I spelt it. There's a difference.

Nevermind that once you've dilated and baby is coming out, it feels like someone lit a match to ya vagina opening. STRETTTTTTTTTTTTTTCH! Hey? I'm being real here. And then you still wanna have the nerve to faint?!? NUUU-UUUUUH!! You will not be the birth certificate father of whomever I gave birth too. Because you don't deserve that. I dowanna hear shit about, "oooooo, I got a weak stomach." What stomach and vagina you think I got? Stainless steel?

Look, if you know you got issues with watching people give birth then let a girl have someone in there who's gonna give her the support she needs. Like John Cena. Hahahahaha! I'm kidding. Like someone who's not gonna witness the birth passed out. 'S all I'm saying. Eeeeven! Even be there but not like in her vagina. That's not exactly what I meant. I meant, not in view of her vagina. Sit on the side of her and hold her hand. That way, you get points for being honest, ofcourse she will probably be mad at you for a while, but it's worth it for you because you also get to keep the respect she has for you pre-fainting and as a bonus.......the title on the birth certificate. Just say, "Honey? I love you and I can't wait to meet our baby, but I think I'd only be able to stand, and I mean stand, meeting her when she's like five earth minutes old. I'm just gonna sit over there, I'll still be here, in the room, but over herrrrre."

He was great though, for both of my births. I give him that. What meant more was that I know that his stomach is weaker than it is strong when it comes to things like that. But he stood tall and swallowed his nausea and I'm proud of him for that.

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Kevin Hart, My #1

Before I start, forgive me for any off the wall shit I might say in this post. I'm high.
Gasssssssp!!!!! You look high when you gasp.
(Lonnnng blink). I mighta just napped there by mistake but I'm up now.
But you do. Stop it. Rather-rather sing. Singing's better. Than anything.

I'll start, cuz I see you's a lil shy. Says the shyest person on planet earth. But you know when you're high........You believe you can fly. You think about it every night and day and spread your-----okay, let's try a different song. I'll start-------Because I got high, because I got high, because I got high-higggggh! On sinus medication called Allergexxxxxxxx...keep-keep singing! I'll do the beatboxing! Hmmmmpf, I must do evvvverything 'round this biaaaaatch-bhh-bhhh-chickachika-doom-dtha-doom-doom-dtha-----you saw that? Saw how I just eased into the beat boxing like biaaaaaaatch-bhh-bhhhh---even when I'm--What?!?

What's with the strange looks? Is it 'cause I'm Coloured? And high? You're ruining my intro. Or is it me? Me and allergex. We might be a little more than squint right now but we can still see. Distorted! Yes. Two or three of one of you? Yes! We'll give you that one. We'll even give you that ya rambler's looking like a cock-eyed bandana wearing tuna fish right now.

Sigh, I don't even know what a tuna fish looks like when it's not shredded in oil or brine. I don't even know why I even said tuna fish. 'Cause are they actual fish that swim in the sea or are they grown to be shredded? Tuna fish. I've seen guppies but tuna fish? Then you can make steaks from them. Hmmmmmm----steaks from fish. Tuna fish steak. That's some suspicious shit right there! Tuna fish. I really can't tell you why my thumbs keep saying that. It might be allergex's safe word. Like, TUNA FISH TUNA FISH-----end the post, end the post, you're giving me a bad name.

Sniff.
Sinus. Pfffffffffft!

I blame Kevin Hart. No, I don't. No, I don't! I love him too much plus with a smile like that, he wouldn't gimme sinus or call me suspicious sea creature names. And to prove that?! Here's a picture where without a doubt, Exhibit A clearly shows me without sinus. Or swimming in sea water. He must know I'm like sand, uuuuuuurgh! That's not what should go therrrrre!

While we're on the subject? The show was outa this world! I'd go see it a hundred more times and still laugh my ass off. The Paper Cup Boys were great, he was simply his normal amazing self. It was truly one of the best shows I've ever been to and I've been to a lot. Hahahhaaahahhhaha, the racoon and the air shooting and the no thumbs hahahhahaahahha, ahhhhhhhh, okay you had to be there but believe me Kevin Hart is boss at telling stories. Real life stories. That's what's even funnier. You can relate. Most times. I've never had an experience with a mobster racoon but I'm sure it happens. He makes life sound like a big ball of funny and that's what we need. This world. We need something to laugh about with the shit that's going on.

I need to lay down, in a more short-term goal kinda way. When you're high and haven't slept in Durban's heat? Anything's possible. I might at some point during the day trip over an imaginary rock. Or believe I can fly. Let's keep our fingers crossed that I won't need stitches or an arm brace.

But I love funny. I--I feel funny >_<

Nevertheless, I gotta go to work and pretend that I don't feel like a zombie all day. Sinus sucks

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Guess What I'm Doing?

Getting ready to laugh my giant ass off!

Yup! I'm about to head into the shower, put on black these clothes....and heels (jury's still out on that one!) And then we're off to see my personal fave ever!

Kevin Hart!

DANCE, DANCE, DANCE, DANCE, DANCE....of joy!!!!!!!!

Whoooooop, see yall soon!

Apparently we can't text or talk or nothing during the show, else we'll be thrown out! Not I! So I won't be able to tell yall about the show while it's on....but I will, after! When I calm down!

Look at that face, I just love it! Okay, ima go now 'cause if I start talking about his smile, I'll be here all night!

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Something About.....

Something about the setting sun.
The changing hue.
The hiding light.
Something about the blinking stars.
The present moon.
The blackened sky.
Something about the ticking clock.
The time gone by.
The memories made.
Something about the distant hope.
The wonders of if.
The absent answers.
Something of the drifting dream.
The lost belief.
The shrinking soul.

By (c) 2016 Stacey Kell
2016 March 27



Something about how this week flew by faster than my sister's memory for proper vocabulary when she's around family! I don't know if getting older influences ones perception of passing time but I do know that it feels as though it's on double speed this year. I wake, blink, and it's 10pm.

Blink!

10pm!

Well not now. Now it's like 4pm.




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Got My Fix!

I did soooooh much rubbish in dance class last night, whooooooooooooo, hahahahahha, I can hear his voice in my head. "Stace, you suck!" Hahahhahaha! He didn't say it. Last night, I mean. He was too busy side-splitting laughing at my shuffling attempts. I'm saying shuffling 'cause the counts are so fast that it feels as though ya feet do nothing but shuffle. But I laugh the, Stace, you suck------off because I know he's not being mean when he does says it. LOL! We have an understanding. My stubborn streak comes out when I don't like that particular choreography, and he tells me, too bad, I'm not changing it!

Regardless of the fact that my overheated brain was like, "No! You will fight your hardest against gettin' these new moves!" It was still theeeee most fun I've had all week. I'll get it right next week, though. Or not. I should rehearse. Maybe I will. Or not. Things could go either way.

But dammmmmmm, the sweat was sprinting outa every tiny pore of my body as if the red and white corpuscles declared war on whatever liquid wasn't blood.

I often tell Jarryd that he has ADHD 'cause he has the energy of a thousand energiser bunnies. So he comes up with some realllllllly fast routines. Which I'm allergic to. And he initally will say, "It's not that fast!" Liessssssss! He means, ".......until the music starts." What's worst is that there's no pill to untangle that knot in my brain while he teaches these now you see it, now you don't counts, to us. Ofcourse, I do eventually pick them up but not without an all out fight from my will.

I told him last night, "You know what Ima do? Ima get the first move and the last move. I'll be good then 'cause it's so fast, nobody will notice!" He just looks at me and sometimes his immediate body language tells me, "I give up with you!" And most other times, he just busts out laughing!

I guess I'm lucky that he is my friend and my teacher, I'm quite sure Ida been thrown outa the class by now. Now he's got this new form of torture. He's been making us jog. JOG!!!! Who does that?!?! I've been so insolent about that that last week gripped my hand and dragged me along. Motivating support or bullying. You decide. And then when I'm gasping for air and clutching my chest, pretending that I feel the onset of a heart-attack, he still has the nerve to blame the cigarettes. It's never the cigarettes. Those keep me calm. They don't cause me to gasp. When I'm sitting. I make a point not to do any strenuous physical activity while I'm smoking. Which only means, he's to blame!

Yesterday? Before class started?

Me: Jay, I'm not jogging today
Jay: Excuse me?
Me: I'm not jogging, its hellish hot and I got not energy for that
Jay: Excuse me?
Luckily Cindy had my back
Cindy: Me too, my bum is sore from gym
Okay, maybe she had her own back, but I still benefited
Me: Plus I hurt my thumb
Jay and Cindy: hahahhahahhaha, what has thumbs gotta do with jogging?
Me: (demonstrating) You know when you jog and your arms dangle and your thumbs are like......(I stopped there because even I knew I was making no sense!"
Cindy: Let's do something different
Jay: Okay okay, let's go do something different
Me: :-))))))))))))))))))))

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Is it soon to be over for Zuma?

Let's see what happens, shall we.



http://m.news24.com/news24/Columnists/Featured/is-zuma-about-to-fall-20160317

http://mg.co.za/article/2016-03-16-mentor-hits-back-at-zumas-denial



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Nobody Came, Robbie Garner

I just finished reading this book, Nobody Came. It's the true and horrifying story of Robbie Garner, his brothers John and Davie and countless other little boys and girls detailing their unimaginable, torturous childhoods in two homes in Jersey, one of the Channel Islands of the English Channel.
I read up on it today. Read about the fact that it's clear that justice will never be served for all of these little lives, whose spirits were so cruelly stolen from them either by physical, mental and sexual abuse.
Reading this book made my entire body weak. There are times when you literally can't read any further and you have to set the book down. Throughout its pages were account after account of how little girls were raped by three men sometimes, boys were beaten 'til they bled, punished in inexplicable ways by nuns and wardens, how they were forced to suck the dicks of grown, drunk or sober men, how the nuns would pull at their penis' when they would bath them, how they were raped, tortured mercilessly where because the situation was seen as so hopeless, some of them committed suicide at ages where death should never be an aspiration. I won't lie, even I felt a sense of hopelessness for these children, the sense that there really was no way out for them until they turned of age to be released from the confines of the those walls where they'd experience no love, no compassion, no praise and nothing else that children should experience and I can't for the life of me comprehend any of these abusers to be even half human.
I saw first hand, in this book, why people turn away from God. I understood his questioning about why God would allow everything that went on in those homes where one minute they are in church learning about Him and the next they are being punished in His name. I saw how terribly difficult it was to hold onto faith. How does a six year old child make sense of that? How does a three year old child understand that a moment of laughter or joy would be something to be left brain damaged over? I saw clearly how the behaviour of his so-called servants can so easily influence people's decisions of whether they were believers or not.
I thought about my own life. About the fact that I held onto my abuse like a crutch for so long. How once I thought I'd put it behind me, it was so easily brought to the surface again. How I really do now believe that I was at the end of it all, unfair. It sounds crazy to read that back. Even for me. I'll explain. I'd been made to suck a dick as a child. I'd been made to lay next to what is now a faceless adult and feel his dick placed between my thighs and pleasure himself. I don't know my age at the time. I do know that I wasn't anywhere close to being a teenager.
To this day, some of the memories are vivid as though it just happened yesterday and some parts, go from being a blur to non-existent. I'm not sure whether I willfully forgot the face of that person or whether I was only successful in burying half the memory. I don't know. I don't actually care anymore because none of it has any power over me anymore. But I do remember being the cruellest to the one who did neither of those things to me and when I say cruellest, I mean where the punishment didn't fit the crime. It might have been that the others, if I recall correctly were once off things because when I remember, I remember one setting of each incident and that in comparison to years of numbing touches and inappropriate caresses dulled what they'd done? If I compare the acts, I am now able to admit to whomever is listening, reading and to myself that I was most angry at the wrong person. Not because there was nothing to be angry about but because worst things were done to me by the two others. These things, I didn't talk about until the end of my marriage.
I got a reminder too of what a bond between siblings is supposed to feel like.  When John made sure from the outside that his little brothers Davie and Robbie would finally be safe from any further harm, I was like, yeah, that's an older brother!  They're not supposed to throw you in front of the bus because of greed for money.  This book was amazing, to me.
I understand why Robbie wasn't very pleased to see that an investigation had begun. He knew that nothing or not much would come of it and that living through it again wasn't what most of these children wanted. Especially in vain. What they wanted to do was put that part of their lives in a box and throw it as far away as possible.
I can't speak for everyone. Just for myself. And the only reason that I even mentioned my own experiences was because reading this book? That was part of the effect that it had on me. But thinking about them didn't anger me. Reading what I was reading, appalled me. The only way that I was able to throw my box as far away from me as I could was to completely forgive. I can't even compare the level of our experiences but I can pray. And I can pray that these victims are one day able to forgive these abusers. It's a complete freedom from that piece of dark history that keeps drawing you back into that space, that time, that pain. But it's worth it because even if you're never able to claim that space in your life again, the life that still lies before you is yours to claim.
To Robbie, Davie, John, Marc and all of the children abused in those homes and every other home, whether it be a care home or a family home? I'm so very, very sorry.
Wherever you are, you in my prayers.
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Tirrrrrrrrrrred Monday

We've been getting quite a bit of rain recently. Ay, I'm not mad at the weather. Like rain or not, the reality is that we need it.

Kinda like I need sleep right now. But not as critical. I just feel half alive. Half. Alive. Which means, half dead, I guess. I'm trying to train myself to see the positive in testy situations. Half alive is my positive. As positive as leady eyelids can be. Or legs that are trying to disobey my brains instruction to move.

No, I'm not to old for this shit. Where'd you get such a notion?

But that's what happens when you've had three hours of sleep. Slow motion will be the theme for today. Some people need liquor to get to the point that I am right now. I steer clear of that. I just needed a late night and dammmit, my toe ring is digging into my big toe. #*?!+@#!

Normally my nights are late, just not as active. They're full of pinning and scrolling. A few taps here and there and maybe a post or two but a persons throat is still intact by morning time. And their toe rings are not pretending to be a horny man in the dead of night when his wife is in the deepest of sleeps. Sahara desert comes to mind.

Okay, that's some buuuuuuullshit. Seems my brain is trying to force me to remember geography and I'm not having that! Because then Ima be all nervous when I yawn and that's simply compounding my current problem with anxiety of expecting a hard slap coming out of nowhere!

Lemme end this post.

Here's wishing you a wonderful Monday. Mine shall be long. But I'm still breathing! I have a roti and curry for lunch. 'S not at all bad, right!

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Jusssssst returned.....

The Lionel Richie concert was just amazing! I'd say we alll needed a fun night out and a fun night out we had! Spectacular seats, lots of dancing and hoarse voices!

Now? Once I shower? And Cruz moves his ass outa my face. Not like he doesn't know which is his side of the bed. With his blankey already laid out. Tsk! Tsk! Tsk! Dogs!

I gotta get me some sleep!

THANKS FOR THE TICKETS GORDON!

Goodnight!


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Decision? On Point!

Oh yes it was! Pat---pat, Rambler! You did good!

Update.....
THAT wedding I mentioned? Remember the noose one? Yeahyeahyeah, that one! It was on Saturday and by the sounds of things? Wooooooooooooomg! My decision not to attend was one to write home about. Or a blog post.

Not tryna make a formal application for high blood pressure. Cholesterol's already soaring. Plus grinding my teeth wouldn't benefit me any with this temporary filling in my mouth.

Shit, I hear, got pretty re-aaaaal up in that wizedding!
O_o!
A-hem!
That didn't sound quite right but let's not dwell on the past. There are more important things to do. Like Kegel exercises. See those? Those are beneficial.

Gotta tell you something. You listening?
Or doing kegels?
I know for certain that you can do both because you don't listen with------you don't listen with ya-----dam----you listen with ya ears, okay?!? In this case, ya eyes, so check this out.

It's not the fact that saying NO is NOT as hard as I thought it was that feels great! 'Cause people pleasing kinda forces you to believe that if you say no then you're gonne be viewed as a rotguts by everyone. Naaaah. The great part is that I realize that saying NO doesn't have to accompany NASTINESS. That makes the difference in the reactions to your decision, I think. Thank you very much, can. Like, no, thank you very much. You know, 'cause manners matter. But going against the grain or standing alone against what you view as an injustice, can be done while keeping it civil.

While I'm here, I might as well tell you why I'm so opposed to acknowledging this "union". The woman that my mother's son married is just nasty, rude and downright selfish. That's it in a nutshell because the story is actually quite lonnnnnnnnnnnnnnng and ugly and I gotta get to work. However, with him stating in his wedding speech, oh yeah, I got a rundown of events. With him stating in his speech that SHE made him WHO HE IS TODAY, at 51 years old, I'd say that he is quite correct. She did. ONLY? NOTHING ATTACHED TO THAT STATEMENT HOLDS ANYTHING TO BE PROUD OF. To me, at least. And that right there is a big part of the reason that I chose to stay away from the celebrations since what's to celebrate? I know what's not to celebrate. Estranged sons and a daughter who is still trying her best to hold onto whatever she can of her father and a grandchild out there who right now is wondering what she ever did so wrong that her once very present grandfather has not seen or spoken to her for going on three years. And I hope that whomever has chosen to support this "union", despite even that one of many negative results? I hope that their grandkids never find themselves in that situation.

But what I hope too is that his old and now insignificant family takes comfort in knowing that they had the best part of him. They had a father who created a family. Not one who turned their back on them to keep the love of a woman who clearly had and has no intention of mending the fence that she deliberately tore down between him and his. Control is a bitch. But then believes that it will go down well for any right-minded person to sit and listen to her shower her mother with fake praises after she's made it known that to her? Children don't actually need their parents when they become adults. Or maybe that just applied to his children, who knows.

Either way. I can tell you with tears in my bloodshot eyes that I love him because as my mother's son, I don't know how not to. And I will continue to, from THIS distance. But I have lost any and all respect for him as a brother and a father. And that's enough to keep me as close to him as I am. Which is extremely far and out of reach.

I've done quite a few things in the past that I am not proud of while trying to hold onto a relationship and honestly, it was as if I was given the ability to watch the tragedies in my own behaviour during that time, through what was going since this woman walked into his life. I'm not sure whether some of my family realizes that or simply believes that I'm sticking to my guns on this, just because. But that's okay though. As long as I know. In saying that, I don't blame whomever I was in a relationship with ANYMORE. I take full responsibility for what I did and didn't do. Here's the thing. At the end of the day, no matter who, what, when or how, your decisions are your decisions and what you allow or follow or don't do, is your burden to bare. Even with this situation, it doesn't matter what she's done or said, the decision to go along with everything, is HIS decision. And that is where fault should rightfully sit.

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I Feel...

Quite dead!

Dance class was both epic and draining. But that's a good thing. Can't be mad about exercising! Just don't be blaming me for not getting to post this blog entry 'cause I've dozed off!

:-/ My exhausted brain and body somehow convinced me that you'd see the post. If I didn't post it. Sorry. #dozingmustfall

That's the new protest craze around here. The land of gold and fuckery. Let's see. There's been #feesmustfall. #outsourcingmustfall. #afrikaansmustfall. #rhodesmustfall. #zumamustfall. #racismmustfall. #randmustfall. Oh wait! Strike that last one. We didn't need a protest for that. Just---just our president. What was I thinking?

I wasn't.

I'm tired.

Too tired.

You know what? In all seriousness, I really do wish that one day we are fortunate enough to be led by a capable, selfless Black president. Not because I'm anti-White. Far from it. I just don't believe that that is ever possible again.

It is a misconception that because some of us are so bitter about the current leadership, that it's because they're not White. But they forget that all we have is that comparison.

Before and after the White government.

And I'm fully aware of the tragedies of Apartheid but in saying that things were better when the Whites led? Yes ofcourse, it's limited to our own exposure to the situation. You ask a Black, Indian or Coloured person to tell you their story and no two would be the same. By no means or measure.

However in saying that we feel it was better, it doesn't mean that we want Apartheid back or even a White president for that matter. The truth is that we just want a capable president. Of whatever race. Nobody with a beating heart and a working mind would long for a time where Blacks were treated worst than a rabid dog. That's an atrocious reality of who South Africa WAS and I'd give anything to be able to go back somehow and exist in a different South Africa.

One that started out THIS way. And by THIS way, I mean, equal opportunity for all where Blacks, Indians and Coloureds were given as much a right as Whites did to exist without the atrocities of dehumisation and to develop in the same limitless environment. It would be a very different place to live in right now.

The thing is this. It was possible but unfairly prevented. All I have to do is look at our schools. All races welcome. All races given the same opportunities. And what did our kids do? They looked passed colour and race. Just like they were supposed to.

And then I imagine an entire country growing up that way.

So very different. To now.

No, we're not bitter because they're Black. We just want someone who puts South Africa's education, health, safety and poverty first, for starters. 'Cause where exactly is this country going in decades from now with poor, stupid, sick, dead people? Nowhere. Nowhere without the foundations and fundamentals in their rightful place. I don't believe that it's too much to ask for them to just make sure, you know, that the hospitals are equipped to care for the sick and the schools get the proper funds that educating children requires, that everybody has food and shelter and that the people are safe.

That's not unreasonable.

But?
How can we celebrate a president who doesn't put those needs first but then feels bricks about spending ridiculous amounts of the peoples money on him and his?

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Marching Along!

Soooooo much going on this week.
My sister's Dubai chapter comes to a close and she arrives home tomorrow. Needless to say, she's not the happiest about that. I can't blame her. All there is to look forward to in this bastard, is unrest and more unrest! But luckily, it's but a temporary pause in her journey. In a few weeks, she'll be leaving us once again to make yet another far away country, home.
Thennn.....my mother's eldest son ties the noose. O_o! Pardon me, the knot, on Saturday. Oops. I didn't make a mistake. Hey? From afar, I wish the future bride and groom------choke----I wish the future bride and groom--------uhmmmmmm----whatever they deserve.
Bitter?
Who me?
Nope!
However, I do see how one could simply leap to that conclusion. I probably would've too, if I were one. Of you. But contrary to popular conclusion? My heart has learnt the art of forgiveness. For my own good. I'm sure you guys are tired of hearing that. Too bad. It's exciting!
Far as this whole palava?!?! I just don't see the point anymore in faking shit. It teaches nobody, nothing. The fact of the matter is-----I never did support the relationship and I never did hide that fact so why would I want to be a witness to the marriage? Further to that, just like it was pointed out on Sunday? Should anyone one of us actually be in attendance when three out of his four kids are deliberately and consciously not invited to his wedding?
There you go, the answer is NO! No, we shouldn't! I'm forty-three years old and it's about time that I stood for something other than "You have to do this or you have to do that, it's your brother." Aaaaaaaaaaaah, shudup! IIIIIIIII don't have to do shit that I don't wanna do. Even if it means that I do the standing, alone.
I'm just tired, I guess. Tired of watching the wrong and feeling pressured into pretending that it's alright. That's typically how an entire generation or two of my family have lived their lives. It's gotta stop somewhere.
All I care about at this moment is the end of April getting here already! Like come on-come on-come on-come onnnnnnn!!!!
Now though? My eyes are making desperate and determined attempts to look at EACH OTHER because a girl is exhausted. That only means that it's time for me to wish you a good morning, afternoon, evening? Whatever it might be at wherever you are!
Be safe. See y'all soon!