And just when I thought the high tides had subsided, I was shit on. Metarphorically of course. But I might as well had been stuck standing there covered in real live human fesis.

I inherited the loose lips from you, mother dear. I don't ever remember getting off the gossip train. Muffeled hidden agendas were always shining bright enough for me to see. I was the fool. I let the gossip feed me in the morning, comfort me in the evenings, and flicker on my phone at night like a reminder night light. You see, I let words get in the way. I became a pawn in a high game of chess. What a mess, what a mess. But I have power. I have actions and rational thoughts. I am an expert at getting my act together at the drop of a fucking hat. But why is this time so very, very different. Why do I feel glum and introverted and not alive and kickin. I want to have a fucking say so. My sister, my mom, them I cannot control. But I have working parts, I have agile arms and capable legs. I can carry my weight and my responsibilities in my back pocket. I can get the ball rolling, All I need is a "spliff and a fag."

visit,

I wish you were there for those visiting hours. Every single fucking day. Minus Tuesday's, no one is allowed on Tuesday's.