Normal People Have No Idea….

Normal people have no idea how beautiful the darkness is.

The darkness understands my very soul: it knows all of my flaws and hardships. It accepts my failures and fears. It praises my uniqueness and creativity.

People have a great fear of the dark; they call it obscene names that it doesn’t deserve to be called. Monsters lurk there, along with mystical monstrosities of the warped imagination.

But me?

I crave the darkness.

I’m free. I’m myself. I don’t have to worry about the emotional abuse of my everyday life. I don’t have to worry about covering up my tear-stained cheeks so nobody would notice my tears. I don’t have to worry about wishing I could only be with Darkness when I’m being held back by destruction and chaos.

But with Darkness, I am home.

Darkness is like that old friend that welcomes me with open arms. Darkness listens to me when I need to get my troubles off of my chest, and it lets me cry on its shoulder when I need to. Darkness laughs with me, cries with me, smiles with me. Darkness knows me, sometimes even more than I know myself.

Darkness will hold me in its arms until the daybreak, whispering sweet words in my ear as it sings me soothing tunes to warm my heart.

Darkness makes me feel like I belong.

And I will always choose Darkness over any other option I’m presented with.

I would die for Darkness.

And Darkness would die for me.






Ello! This is a piece I wrote based on a Pinterest quote I found; so thank you, to wherever this quote came from! I don’t mean to steal credit; just write with inspiration from the original quote.

Like this piece, comment what you think of it; your support is more than genuinely appreciated. I really want to hear what you think of this. I openly accept criticism, also, so if you have any, awesome.

Also, if you have ideas for future pieces, let me know; I’m open to requests.

Until the demons save my soul,



drown my demons

They just won’t leave me alone….

They swim in my thoughts and my blood, waiting for the perfect moment to murder me.

I know they’re there, watching my every movement like they’ve got me on motion sensors, and if I’m too far to the left, they’ll fly off the handle.

I can’t talk.

I can’t think.

I can’t breathe.

All of my friends think I’m insane. They’ve distanced themselves from me, and those people who I trusted and loved and cared about… well, they call me names.




The demons kept whispering in my ear, telling me things I didn’t want to listen to. They wouldn’t stop whispering…. I yelled at them to stop, and my friends….

They didn’t want to be around me.

Good going, you always push away the ones you love,” the demons whisper. “Better to die alone, anyways.”

But… die alone?

How can I die alone, when I’m already dead?







Ello! This is another creative writing bit…. Dark, yes…. But still creative! Inspired by Can You Feel My Heart by Bring Me The Horizon. Amazing song, so I suggest you go listen to it if you haven’t heard it already.

Comment what you think of this piece, like it, suggest future pieces! I’d love to hear what you suggest, and I’d also love to hear what you think of this piece! I’m totally open to criticism!

Forever day drinking,


**Daydreaming, (oops)


I hear them. They’re all around me. And they want me dead.

My heart thuds in protest against my chest as I run for my life. Their roars and growls are all around me, taunting me, making my blood run cold and boil all at once. I can feel the warmth of tears down my cheeks, and the stickiness of blood down my temple.

The crunch of dead leaves and broken branches on the forest floor make my presence known in this mass of wilderness; there’s no hiding here. Even if I find a place to hide, to stay out of sight, they’ll always know where I am. They can hear my heartbeat, sense my pumping blood.

They bask in my fear.

I don’t have a chance against them. I’m as good as dead, no matter what I do to try to survive.

The silver moon sheds light on this nightmare, like it’s the one ally I can trust to help me. It can’t to much, but at least it tries.

They’re closing in on me. Their footsteps get louder, scarier, deadlier.

I can’t go any further. I slid to a stop at the face of a cliff; below me sits certain death in the form of rocky rapids, some three hundred feet down.

A deep chuckle sounds behind me; I face the personification of Malevolence. Glowing red eyes, deep dark hair, a flash of fangs in the moonlight….

A wicked smile is displayed on his face.

“Tired of running yet?” he asks in a raspy tone, that suggests my fear amuses him. A pack of black wolves with glowing red eyes stand behind him, all teeth bared, ready to attack.

“What do you want from me? Why are you doing this?!” I yell at him.

He only chuckles. “It’s rude to answer a question with another question.” He takes a step toward me, sending shivers down my spine. He chuckles at me. “If you’d like to continue this game of cat and mouse, I have all eternity to play it.”

All words seemed to evade me in that moment. Only fear held me, as Malevolence stood in front of me. He lifted a hand to my chin, and met my eyes with his of blood red. He chuckles again. “I’ll even give you a head start,” he says, stepping aside and gesturing forward.

Stuck in a loop: run off for a while, only to get caught again. Lace it with fear, for all eternity.

To my surprise, I step toward him, toward Malevolence. “I don’t want to run anymore….”

He smiles, sending shivers down my spine again. His glowing red eyes seem pleased. “Let me throw you to the wolves, so you may return leading the pack.”











New piece! Just chose to sit and write, and this is what came out of it. Hope you like it! Like, comment what you think, and if you want to suggest prompts for future pieces, let me know in the comments, too! 

Waiting for the full moon,


Strange Dream

I have these moments, where I’m so deep in dreaming that it’s something that’s kind of intense and really amazing, and as I’m sleeping, I can see everything: it’s fantastic.

Then I wake up from the amazing dream, and it seems to completely vanish, like it hadn’t even happened.

You know what I mean?

This one seemed to stick to me a little bit, yet the edges are starting to blur.

Here is the dream:

A cloudy day outside, slightly cold, slightly warm. I’m guessing this would mean that this could be the end of August, early September? But then again, it could just mean now because our weather is so hormonal. Welcome to Canada.

I wasn’t working, so Kaylie and I chose to go book shopping. (I’m not too sure why I’d thought about buying books; lately I’ve put myself on a book buying ban….)

So, we’re at this bookstore.

As we walk in, these two guys are looking at us. I can feel their gazes, even when I’m not looking. Kaylie doesn’t seem to notice them staring, because she’s showing me three different cover styles to The Lovely Bones, and she can’t decide which one she wants. She knows the book inside out, has a very, very worn copy at home, and would like a new copy that isn’t held together by three rolls of scotch tape.

I sneak a glance at the guys staring; and I am speaking such an understatement when I say that these two guys were stunningly beautiful. The main one who kept staring was tall, about six foot two; he had long, curly, dirty blond hair that seemed to make his high cheekbones stand out; and bright blue eyes, the shade of warming ice.

The second guy was equally attractive: he had quite tanned skin, short sandy hair with a slight spike to it, and eyes the same shade as sunlight through a glass of whiskey.

I’d never seen these two before.

Kaylie gets my attention, asks again about which book cover, and I tell her the original cover – somewhat distracted, I’ll add. She chooses a cover, puts the others two books back on the shelf, then says she wants to look for something in the cookbook section – her and her mother grew a bunch of rhubarb, and she wants to see if there is a rhubarb cookbook available.

But, to get to the cooking section, we need to pass those two guys.

I’m assuming she still didn’t notice them, because she went and walked past them like it was nothing. Like they were literally just two guys in a bookstore, that hadn’t been staring for the past few minutes.

I follow her, and as I’m just about to pass those guys, the blond looks at me, with those ice blue eyes, and says, “Excuse me, you look really familiar.”

I meet his eyes. I have never seen this guy before in my life. And if I have, it must not have been impactful enough to remember. Although if I’d ever seen this guy, I would probably remember him.

I reply with, “I get that sometimes.” I know, typical movie response, but I literally couldn’t think of anything else.

He smiled back at me – his smile, oh my goodness! I swear that boy’s smile could melt the North and South Poles even if he was located at the Equator – and said, “That’s understandable. I really don’t mean to bother you, but I’ve been trying to remember your name.”

To be kind, I hold out my hand and introduce myself.

He smiles again – again, that smile – shakes my hand, and says, “That’s the name…. My name’s Douglas, but Doug works all the same.”

It was now that I notice his friend, the one with the whiskey shaded eyes: he looked like he was getting annoyed by his friend’s actions.

So, introducing yourself to somebody because you think you know them annoys you?

I take my hand back, say that Kaylie and I should get back to our shopping – to which I look for Kaylie and she was already scanning the shelves for this book – and that we’ll see those two guys later.

It was then, that Douglas took a step to the shelf, pulled out one book, and held it out to Kaylie. “Is this what you were looking for?”

Kaylie stops, and looks at the book he’s holding.

It’s a complete rhubarb cookbook.

We didn’t even tell them what we were looking for, yet he knew? Were we talking too loud when we were looking at The Lovely Bones? The store itself wasn’t exactly quiet, and I didn’t think we were talking that loud….

Kaylie accepts the book, and I can tell she’s just as shocked as I am.

With a kind goodbye from Douglas – the other guy looked annoyed, still at this point, like being here another moment would ruin his whole life – both of them left the store; but before they completely vanished around the corner, Douglas paused to take one more look back.

And he smiled.

And, almost as quickly as the gesture had happened, it was over, and Douglas disappeared around the corner, leaving the bookstore.

I turn to Kaylie, who’s looking at me with a surprised expression. “How the hell did that pretty boy know what book I was looking for…?” she asked slowly.

I tell her that I wasn’t sure, that maybe we were talking too loud and he overheard.

“We were basically whispering; so if he heard us, he’s either got superhuman powers or a damn good hearing aid,” Kaylie said, looking at the book with amazement.

Still slightly unnerved by the situation, we paid for our books, and went to talk and deeply analyze the situation further over lunch.







And that’s the end of my dream! Probably not as action packed as you would have hoped, so I’m sorry my brain didn’t give me that sort of dream…?

But! I would guess the dream would have been longer if a squirrel wasn’t yodeling outside of my window at six in the morning; so if this story seems incomplete, blame the squirrel.

Thank you so much for reading! Follow me for more, like, comment if you can relate to this; I’d love to hear from you guys!

Until I drift off to dreamland,


Daily Emotional Damage Pt. 5

Update on the update….

Kaylie messaged me, basically asking why I chose to include her in my Daily Emotional Damage rants.

Well, that’s pretty self explanatory.

Words were exchanged between us, some of them more colourful than others, and the situation had gotten intense. More intense than I would have guessed, but it went there.

I call her; trying to display emotion over text is one thing, but voicing it is more effective – whether that’s good effective or bad effective, same diff, it works.

After some shared words, I discover that the reason why there’s been heavy static between Kaylie and I is the fact that she has got the weight of a thousand sorrows on her shoulders. She’s been expected to carry the confessions of family members, the pain of inconsiderate idiots, and the dread of everyday bullshit, all like it’s supposed to weigh as light as a feather.

Well, it’s no fucking feather.

Kaylie had been keeping this shit bottled up for a very, very long time. And she said she felt that if she told me how she was feeling everytime I asked if she was okay, she would ruin my day. And she said she didn’t want to do that.

First off: I try to stress this to people I care about, and that’s to everybody near and dear to my heart – if something is bothering you, tell somebody. Whether that’s me, or a family member, or a therapist, or even the blue lines of a notebook. Tell somebody.

Do not keep stress and depression bottled up. Do not. That’s a recipe for disaster that nobody wants to clean up after.

After an hour long conversation, of heartfelt words and distracted tidbits, we’re back to the way we were. We have cleared the air and restored a bit of balance.

And thank goodness.

And Kaylie, if you’re listening: I will always be here for you.

Until the next confession,


Daily Emotional Damage Pt. 4


Let me update you on the Kaylie situation, shall I?

This week, there actually was Creative Club – I know, because I personally contacted the supervisors; I didn’t have to work late like last week, but I did have to work the midday shift. It wasn’t too bad, all in all.

Regardless, Kaylie wanted to meet up and hang out before CC, which doesn’t start until seven in the evening.

I had a couple errands to do before I had to meet up with Kaylie.

She said that it was no big deal.


So, I finish what I had to do, I go to where we had planned to meet up – one of the local malls – and I meet up with her.

We did what any friends would do: we went to around to the stores in the mall, talking, enjoying each other’s company.

And I honestly thought that it was fun. It wasn’t a waste of time or anything like that; it was a nice release from my stressful life.

Time lapse: we went to CC, it went… alright, I suppose. Not horrible, not extravagant. It went alright.

It’s been a few days since CC, and I figured I could still text Kaylie; like, we’re friends. Why not?

And, I have gathered enough evidence to make a conclusion: over text, she doesn’t want to talk. It is always so awkward and static, that just to break the tension, there has to be small talk.

I, for one, am not a fan of small talk.

It gets very annoying, very fast. 

Even when we get to talking about something that, if in person, the conversation would last forever and wouldn’t be horrible.

That same conversation over text? Turns into an awkward nightmare.

Like… why? Why is the relationship between us so awkward over text, when it’s decent when in person?

This isn’t much of a dramatic story, and I apologize if you were expecting one. It’s just something that’s been on my mind today, and it’s wearing me out.

If you can relate, I’d love to hear from you guys; comment your experience with this, like, and let’s just chat.

I’d like that.

Until the next episode,


Raise A Little Hell

Dark moon, clouded sky, and a breeze so damn cold that it’ll chill you to the bone, even if you’re wearing seven thermal layers. Give you hypothermia in less than a minute.

My kind of weather.

It’s a perfect contradiction to where I come from. Where I’m from and what I’m used to, it’s very hot. Some would almost say scorching. Only the insane stay, or those who are utterly lost and have no hopes and dreams to go anywhere else.

Almost like Hell.

Walking down the street, everything is as it should be: a few people rushing to get their last minute shopping done before the stores all close and lock their doors, the day drinkers heading to their favorite pubs to begin their night drinking, the criminals crawling out from their dark hiding places to do their dirty work.

This is what the night has become.

A woman dressed in a casual daytime office outfit rushes along the nearly vacant sidewalk; her head is down, because she doesn’t want to attract the wrong attention. She doesn’t like attention; even when she’s at work, and a co-worker asks her something very simple, she has to hold herself together so she won’t crumble to bits. And tonight, walking along the poorly illuminated sidewalk, it’s no different.

The drunkard who loops these city blocks has appeared once again; holding onto the lamp post with one hand and an empty bottle of Jack Daniels in the other, he swings around the post, singing a very mediocre version of Bubba Shot The Jukebox. Although beyond the point of being buzzed, his stability is surprisingly good. Several years of binge drinking does that, I guess. It creates a sort of superpower, and it’s the only kind of talent he seems to have ever had. His family always tells him how much of a horrible waste of space he is – they’ve always done that, even before he knew what alcohol was. When he first discovered the bottle, it was like, finally, a relief from all of the bullshit. Booze is his happy place: he doesn’t have to feel a damn thing.

The streetwalker on the street corner, dressed in a mini skirt as she freezes her ass off. The shit I do for money, she thinks to herself bitterly. Back in highschool, she was a cheerleader. Straight A student, could have been the valedictorian but didn’t want to write that sappy kind of speech. When she graduated, she had her life all planned out: she wanted to go back to school, take creative writing, become a poet or a published author. Never would she have guessed that this was where she’d end up: signalling cars to pull over so she could have a little bit of extra cash.

The breeze seems to blow a little colder tonight; something is going to happen. I don’t know what it is, but I have a feeling it won’t be considered good. It’s work for me, basically. Not the best, but I can’t complain. After I done, the cops can have at it.

Maybe this nervous man with the Desert Eagle hidden in the back of his jeans knows where the location of my pick-up is. With his hood up, he walks with fear and nervous revenge. Tears look like they’re going to fall from his eyes, but he won’t let them go that far: his brother wouldn’t have wanted that. With pending blood on his hands, he crosses the street.

And to my surprise, I follow him.














Ello! Again, I wanted to try another descriptive piece! A little dark, yeah, but at least I can say I went there. Kind of inspired by my emotions, and Wreak Havoc by Skylar Grey. Certainly an interesting bit, to say the least. Certainly interesting.

Like, follow me for more, comment what you thought of it! 

Until the next ship comes in,


Meet Me In The Fire

I wait….

I wait forever for you….

Whenever I’m alone, it’s like I’m lost. I’m trapped in this ridiculous mundane world that doesn’t accept me for who I am, and will never accept me, no matter what I do to try to fit in. Alone, I stick out like a sore thumb, that’s just waiting to get caught in the door.

But when I’m with you… something incredible happens.

My heart beats, and I can actually feel it. I smile, and I know it’s not a fake gesture. I laugh, and it’s genuine.

You have shown me that I am alive.

When I thought I was a goner, risking death and destruction every single day of my life, you came along, like a hero rising to the occasion. You walked into my life, and from that first moment I saw you, I knew that everything was going to be okay now.

You make the world different, but in a magical way that I’ve never seen before. With you, all time seems to stop, and it’s just a beautiful eternity that I get to spend with you. The trees seem taller. The grass seems greener. The air seems fresher.

It’s like something bad could happen at any moment. But as long as I’m with you, I’m going to be okay. Anything could happen, but if you’re near me, nothing else matters but you.

The sun seems gentler on my skin. The rain seems warm to the touch. Fire seems relaxing and calming, almost soothing to me.

So. As long as we’re together, I will wait for you.

Meet me in the fire.













Ello! The above was a bit of a writing prompt! I got the inspiration from a song (Fire by Felix Cartal & Clockwork, the Apex Rise Trap Remix Ft. Madame Buttons) It’s a fantastic song, I suggest you go listen to it. (This is not a promo, I swear!) 

So yeah, I thought I would try something a little bit different! Like, comment, tell me what you think and if I should be doing more prompts like this in the future. Thank you for all of the support.

See you lovelies next time,


The Void

Lately, it’s been a very confusing and weird part of my very confusing and weird life.

When left alone with my thoughts, I overthink things. I wish I didn’t overthink things, but it’s just what my mind does, and it has to occupy itself, so it overthinks.

Let me explain:

So! I was introduced to this wonderful person a year or two ago, by a person who at the time was a dear friend of mine. This wonderful person, we’re going to call… Kaylie. And my dear friend at the time… we’ll call her Charlie.

So, Charlie introduced me to Kaylie. And Kaylie seemed like a very amazing person: she was kind, funny, down to earth. Kaylie and I actually connected really well: we had a lot in common – one of the main things we shared was we both liked stories and creative forms of expressing them. As time goes on, Kaylie and I are like the best of friends. Pretty much, we were there for the other one, and we were so close it was like we had known the other all their lives. We really understood each other.

Charlie decided to do something very stupid, that she would never do if she’d only been herself and stopped trying to make her boyfriend jealous, and she lost Kaylie and me as friends. We both no longer respected Charlie, we no longer trusted Charlie, we no longer talked to Charlie.

After that, Kaylie and I grew closer as friends; it was kind of like because of Charlie’s stupidity, we were more aware of things. We picked up on things, that made us be prepared, so we wouldn’t have a Charlie situation again. Because we didn’t want to go through that again; I mean, it was terrifying the first time.

About a year passes, and Kaylie and I are good and dandy and everything. 

Until, me and my confused mind begin thinking of the future: I want to go back to school, take some classes that I feel would be very good for me. But, in today’s day and age, these courses are going to cost money. So, upon that subject, I applied and I got a job.

Kaylie wasn’t too happy about this…. She wanted me to spend time with her always. But with my new job, I wasn’t able to; I had to be at work, and not be late, and earn more hours. And, being as desperate as I was for my future, I picked up every possible hour I could get. Work and adding up my hours was my main focus.

Kaylie absolutely hated this.

She texted me one day, saying: “Let’s hang out today xD.”

And I reply with: “Sorry, I can’t today, I’ve got work till late.” Which was completely true; I was called in because a co-worker wouldn’t make it into work.

Kaylie wasn’t replies with: “What the hell? You never make time for me anymore! I mean, I understand you work a lot, but can’t we just hang out??”

This boiled my blood. I’m supposed to make time for her now?! I don’t see her often because of work, granted. But I can’t blow off work just because she wanted to hang out!

So I told her, as calmly as I could: “I need the hours, and I’ve already accepted them. I’m not going to just skip work.”

Where she replies with: “You’re a different person. We used to hang out whenever, and now it’s like you’re avoiding me and blowing me off.”

…. Excuse me?!

I’m working! I’m not intending to ignore you on purpose!

I reply: “I legitimately have work! I’ll send you my schedule for this week, to prove this!”

No reply. She ignored my text. I guess she didn’t even want to talk after that.


Months go by; I’ve now been at my job for four months. 

We both usually go to this Creative Club every Tuesday, unless it’s been cancelled for whatever reason; and if it’s been cancelled, it would have been posted on the Club’s social media page.

I worked Tuesday. Still, I would have been able to go to CC, I just would have been an hour late.

When I get off work, I check my phone, and there’s a missed text from Kaylie. It says: “There’s no CC tonight, because nobody showed up. I’ve waited her for a long time, and nobody has come yet.”

My reply: “Was there anything posted on the social media page?”

Kaylie: “Hold on, I’ll check.”

Slightly annoyed she didn’t check that first, I wait. At this point, I was just leaving work, at the parking lot. I wasn’t able to check myself, because I need wifi to check my social medias, and there wasn’t any.

Kaylie: “No, there’s nothing on the page.”

Me: “Did you contact one of the supervisors?” The main people who run the Club; they normally post on the social media page, but if they don’t, it’s only wise to contact them.

Kaylie: “No I haven’t. Hold on.”

…. Rage slowly building….

Not wanting to wait for Kaylie to reply, I get in my car and drive to a fast food place, that has free wifi. I connect, check the page: Kaylie was correct, there wasn’t anything posted.

I contact the supervisors: turns out, they waited at the Club for a while, and only one person showed up. That’s not much of a Club. So, they’d gone to a small café, where there was open mic and positive vibes. People would do whatever they wanted: sing, play music, read a story, perform a sketch, slam some poetry.

To me, this sounds amazing. This café isn’t that far away, I can get there in no time.

I text this information to Kaylie; when I met her, this was what she loved.

Kaylie: “Oh…. For one, it would be nice if somebody was nice enough to let me know. Second, I’m not into that stuff.”

…. Rage quickly gaining speed….

I was honestly taken aback by her declining to go. She usually liked that sort of thing – that was one of the common things we shared when we first met!

Already wasting enough time, I basically told her fine, whatever, and I went on my own. And I loved it, I had a lot of fun.

Later, after I get home, I text Kaylie to see how her evening was, and I would tell by the way she’s replying – small talk, snippy comments, ignoring me until I send several texts – that she was pissed off with me.

I confronted her about it, and she dodged the issue, saying nothing was wrong.

Okay then….

And, that was literally last week.

I keep trying to check in with her to see how she’s doing and everything, and she’s still providing me with the bare minimum….

Again, I ask what’s wrong, she still says nothing.

So…. Lately, my emotions have been a mess. Kaylie have turned into somebody that I personally would never connect and be friends with. It’s really just making me feel like she’s just a stranger to me….

I don’t know, honestly. I really don’t.

I’ve noticed that I seem to attract the sort of friends that will be my friend for a good while, will steal my emotions, play with them, then give them back damaged.

I believe that the main thing I should do in this situation is… keep my guard up around Kaylie?

Again, I don’t know.

We’ll see what happens…. Hopefully my mind isn’t playing tricks on me, and everything is actually fine….

Until the next one,


Daily Emotional Damage Pt. 3

Literally. Okay. I don’t know how to say this without sounding jealous and cocky, but I don’t really give a sh*t at this point. I am BEYOND PISSED OFF.


Let me explain:

I’ve always been there for my friends. ALWAYS. I put away my own troubles and problems to help them with theirs. I care about them, and I will help them with whatever is that they need.

My friend group is very small, because I don’t have the best luck with keeping friends; it’s like, to get close to me, they’re nice and kind, but then they take off the fake façade and reveal their true colours, which aren’t even pretty.

So, today: had an early morning shift at work, dealt with it with a fake smile plastered on my face – okay. Day is done, I’m exhausted because I set my alarm wrong and woke up an hour before I was actually supposed to wake up, and I am literally a sleep deprived zombie at this point.

When I get tired, there is absolutely NO FILTER. Whether it’s my speech, or my emotions, or my thoughts – everything flows together, and it’s horrible river rapids.

I text my friends back because I’m off work, and I’m not really feeling in the mood: my thoughts have the better of me, I feel like I’m stuck in a shell with a crushing depression shading me.

Out of habit, I ask them how they’re doing.

They tell me they’re bored, and ask how I’m doing.

I tell them the honest truth, that I’m an emotional train wreck that’s missed it’s destination by miles, with no chance of a loop around.

Look: I don’t expect much. Yeah, I don’t want to create a pity party, but even just some assurance, some kind words, maybe just anything that a good friend would do would be nice, at this point.

What do I get, you may be wondering?


The next text comes in, when I’m overwhelmed and just need a little bit of moral support, and they over-dramatize their own daily crap in order to feel more important?!

Did I just accidentally walk into a one woman show where you are the main star?!

Wow. Just f*cking WOW.



I don’t mean to be cocky or anything like that, but DAMN! SH*T!

Well, I guess they’ve helped me solve the age old question: are we really friends? Like really friends?

The answer: NO. WE ARE NOT. Because all I am to them is the rug under their damn feet, that makes them feel better when they walk all over me!

#SorryNotSorry #AllTeaNoShade 

When am I ever going to find somebody who genuinely cares about me, and isn’t all up in their ego to let it pass them by?

Anyways, that’s my rant for the day, thank you for following along. Like, comment, share, let me know your experiences relating to this topic; I’d love to hear some.

Until the next one,