Thunderbolt
My 35th was arguably the worst birthday ever. Maybe not the worst worst, but certainly the worst I’ve had in a long time.
I can’t decide which is worse; losing an insane amount of money or a loved one. No, nobody’s dead yet, but there will be blood when I’m through.
You just can't trust anybody nowadays. I am soooo tempted to stoop as low as these unscrupulous types, just for the heck of it. There are things I can and will do and trust me, I’m all ready to get ugly.
I’m like a boiling pot of rage with a dash of disappointment and a pinch of sadness, all 3 bowls of thick substance simmered down to 1 bowl of bitter, black intense HATE, ready to be forced down the lying lips of the traitorous and the spineless.
I was once told anyone could severe ties emotionally by conjuring images of yourself cutting off the other person with the help of scissors, knives, wall of bricks, etc. I think I need something stronger.
Oh well.
Clyde was kind enough to drag my sorry ass and moping mug from the TV set and we did have a nice meal of buffet steamboat (his birthday) and Lobsterman (mine). Although we know neither is in the mood for any celebration, we made the best of it.
Thanks for your continuous support and understanding darling. Luv ya. :)
