My thumbnail hurts. Boo....hoo.
It's pretty. The dead part that you trim off is a 'T' shape. That's because I split it with a razor knife a few weeks ago. I keep catching it on things.
How pathetic. Lol. Considering the real suffering. For instance... I woke up with a stomach ache last night. I'd eaten too much. We'd gone to an expensive restaurant, and though I'd attacked my meal, about halfway in I was stuffed. I didn't clean my plate. And then, about 2am I felt like...( sorry) ( ...warning) .... puking.
I know my name is on the list, and when the Revolution finally, truly happens, me, and all my friends, and all of my family, all of our families, will be executed. It's only right. The money spent last night could've fed a Guatemalen family for several years. And, yes, there goes another check mark
*pow! ( gunshot)*
I apologize for saying Guatemalen. I apologize for all my statements, I thoroughly, deeply, firmly apologize.
I'm trying my hardest, but I just can't seem to get my head right. There's a failure to communicate. I'll never get to Awoke-state. Like Ophrey once said: "Those people just need to be dead."
My son works at a big retailer. He brought home some required paperwork. "Circle the answer that best describes how you FEEL." It's a questionnaire which is meant to weed out those who are not right. I know it; he knows it. He thinks he can fake it. I'm afraid he's doomed. He has no future there. They'll never promote him.
It's our fault. It's how we raised him. We made him do things. We sent him to school with the sniffles. We also made comments about things we shouldn't have. We made wrong statements. In front of him, possibly.
I apologize to the universe. Someday my kind will be extinct and the universe will finally be... where it's progressing to; all the way. The history books will show all the correct things, from the correct perspectives.
I'm sorry, again. I shouldn't say that. I shouldn't have to be told not to say that. I deserve whatever is correct.
Long live the Revolution.