when i was a kid,
my mother bought me a doll.
i think my mother would have been okay with me being gay tbh.
it wasn’t barbie or a baby doll,
but it was def a doll the size of a ninja turtle.
i loved this doll and played with it along with my action figures.

the way i played with toys was usually superhero shit.
the female characters were either fighting or were “damsels to rescue”.
i would create worlds with my imagination,
often times taking boxes and making tanks or battleships.

well,
one day my doll up and disappeared.
anytime my grandmother wasn’t home,
i tore her house down looking for my doll.
at a young age,
i could sense fuck shit so i KNEW she had something to do with it.

when my mother died,
she admitted she tossed it in the trash.

when i tell people this story,
they were always empathetic.
i was also told from many people that incident created trauma too.
the things our parentals did to make sure “we weren’t gay“.
when i see parents like…

because the F-BI stay on it…

so apparently and allegedly,
dante the body was in jail recently.
i dunno how ya’ll be finding this shit out but i’m wit it.
a F-BI sent me this and i immediately asked…

“a story of low self esteem.”

that was on the first page.
i think it might have been a warning.
last week,
i decided to start reading to get my mind off “well, you know“.

the new movie “pillion” is based off a book called “box hill” by adam mars-jones.
the book follows colin who meets ray at a biker club called “box hill”.
it is based in the 70s,
but if this was current,
he would be considered an “the fantasy attentionisto” on socials.
so they meet when colin trips over ray at the club…

…and while on his knees,
he sucked ray’s dick at the club because,
well,
why not since he was already down there.

i’m not finished reading but colin annoys me because every other sentence is:

diddy got 50 months,
which equals about 4 years,
but as many of us sighed relief this shit is over:

“cassie should be in jail.”
“this is all cassie fault.”
“cassie brought the black man down.”

tbh…

ya know one thing i’ve come to realize?

98% of rich people are fuckin MISERABLE.

they got all this money,
power,
and status but miserable AF.
they don’t have to deal with the bullshit average people have to deal with,
but so many of them are missssssssssssssssssserable.
it made me have to ask myself:

“would i ever want to be rich?
because it seems once you become rich,
you got mo probelms and mo misery.”

i love drama and will sit front row with The Foxhole for it,
but all this shit happening between cardi vs nicki on the app of misery…

have you ever had to attend a meeting at work and felt like:

“i left scrolling the internet for new plates for this?
UGH!”

or…

when our bosses think we need to meet every week for 15 minutes to discuss some new tedious task they cooked up while doing their own tedious tasks.

or my fav…

booking random meetings just to put shit on their calendars because the colored blocks look pretty and make them feel busy.

i hate work meetings if you can’t tell.
people who schedule meetings to annoy are the bane of my existence.
i wonder if our military felt this way when pete hegseth called a meeting in DC for this…