Waking the Dead

As a ghost/dog/dragon/kitten/rose, I will tell you the privilege I've had with the lobotomy. Sometimes, I whine too much, I'll admit. Why me? Tis my creed.

I have these grandiose delusions that I used to be super smart, which isn't the case. Also, I've always struggled with spelling due to the fact I was taught to read by sight.

Oh well.

Back to the lobotomy...

Without it, I'd probably be dead, and it might have worked if they could have restrained me or taken me to a hospital when I was really bad off. Instead, they chased me around and punished me. They sent the "fallen" after me along with other toys. I lived next to Langley, and they were all fired up from Putin's attention. I suppose he wants to destroy my life, too. Too late. Someone beat you to it, Vladi.

That's the disclaimer.

Now, I have a problem where I am not able to hold a steady opinion. My memory is shot. I will tell you the sky is purple when it is blue the next day. I'm not lying, not on purpose. It's just the way my brain works at the moment. I'm also aware that I have to look up words like "loom." Remember what Madonna says, "Words.. they've gone out, lost their meaning. I don't function anymore." Okay, that was deadly for the only thing I like doing: writing. I have some luck.

Just have to work harder.

And I also wonder if it was her place to "save" me? Her little goons left me after that. Nobody would say anything about the 8.5 month long headache either.

Thanks for caring... That's what you said. Get out of my section of Hell and fuck each other on your yachts and planes.

Full of shitness, right? Putin can sell a few watches and give me the house plus the five million (both after taxes).



They're destroying the fun and glory of Hell.