i live in new yawk, but mentally, i’ve been in another country at a wellness retreat.
when i shut down my personal social media accounts,
the intent was to come back once i was healed.
that means work on this therapy shit hardbody. foxhole, i can say i’m well on my way to being healed and reclaiming my time.
i feel like serena van der woodsoncoming back to ny in the first episode of og gossip girl.
on my final purge today,
on a brand new moon,
my phone’s contact listlost some serious weight.
that hoe is skinny af. the way i see things now is this…
would you give your manz the password to your phone?
it’s something i’ve asked myself.
you think you can trust your manz to be 100,
but next thing you know,
he has a whole secret life all up in his phone.
all of our secrets are in our phones.
it puzzles me when folks are out here living double lives,
why do they make it so easy to crack their passwords.
this vixen blasted that her manz was actually an alleged jackal in disguise. she went through his phone and found an alleged trail of trans vixens and gay males…
a life without internet. whew.
it sounds scaryto most of us.
many of us don’t realize how addicted we are to our phones.
we wake up and check our phones and do the same before going to sleep. yesterday, shortly after my second entry, my entire internet went out…
i’m starting to think folks are too trusting.
now don’t get me wrong,
when you meet someone,
you gotta lower your walls down.
that means being open to letting someone in. cool.
i’m all for that “love me long time” shit.
after watching that teairra mari shit,
i had to wonder…