Distasteful Dismount
Lord, I talk to myself THIS WAY to avoid people hearing it from me weekly. I feel it is my escape because over half of what I say in these posts would destroy everything in my life. People overreact like it’s their freaking job.
I’m getting choked up even thinking about it. It’s forced me to treat the sweetest of individuals like complete trash at certain times. To those fantastic human beings, I apologize for my insecurities and fears coming through so blatantly. I only slip into these remorseful feelings about once a week these days. That’s mucho better-o you hear?
A heavy heart is not even permitted in my life.

THEIR hearts and fears, I’m talking about those who instill such nervousness and hesitation in me, aren’t even cruel. As they are JUST FOLLOWING THE RULES.. ain’t bawt.
It’s a net win in some ways but I still shed tears for those who deserved the world from me will never even get RESOLUTION at the end.
Sh*t… are you joking me? I can’t even send a sweet letter without going to fn jail. Believe me I’ve tried. Per-se-my removal from women’s hearts was forced. But I… will lose coverage, insurance and my welfare checks most likely wiping this sweat from my brow.

I get over most pauses in IV drip every paragraph or two and I know I’m creating room for phenomenal growth with each rep so I can’t complain. Why would I continue to talk to brick walls nonstop? Why would I flip stones they delicately arrange in my favor at all? Why would I ever stall being the best man I can be? I’ll tell you why, my success and growth itself instills fear in their minds for a trust was not felt.

Sidenote: anyone picking up on my distrust of individuals these days ought to look in the mirror and recognize I’ve moved at speeds that scared you. Thats legitimately it!
I always write about and murmur to myself the encouragement I’d love to feel is in the loving life area. Loving individuals who don’t reside WITH ME is outlawed. Called. Stalled. All I do is ball and rhyme words to get over these hurts nowadays.
I feel at ease. HOPEFULLY individuals see my tendency to build individuals up disproportionately was and is due to me liking… myself. It feels good to let people know they deserve a bunch of credit for the W’s in my win column. It’s called respect, thanks, adoration/regretful pains in my heart/ fuel for progress/ LOVE for fellow human beings and not me getting too attached, critical or in violation.
I’d like to be in a place where my fellow human beings, that DO LIVE to help me, encouraged me to wipe off my heart and feel.
I’d like to make it through one day without feeling the guilt they’ve placed upon me. Justly, I got penalized and penetrated in my heart. The aches are nothing I ever mutter for they’ll look at me without pause until I cry. Because that’s what they like to do, that’s how following their rules gets me off course daily. But I can’t share this heathon breathing down my neck without looking like and being an *sshole.
The guilt is as paralyzing as anything I’ve ever been through.
I’m not comforted one bit in this area because.. please admit, the roosters will come home to roost, the sky will fall down, I’ll shatter my chances of being respected as a man and “you’ll” wet your pants hyperventilating IF I pick a flower for anyone of the opposite sex.
Sh*t I now realize more and more why these trans-multi gender cry babies stay uncomfortable.
Cat calling, you’re drauling.
Fighting progress to hush the shrieks of the popo. These days my flow is something that is under constant construction so I avoid fret knowing it’s always a work in progress.

I legit email these verses to myself so I can erase this incriminating dialogue off my phone as soon as possible.
Is that right? Should I feel that supported that I have to hide my most honest moments? You wish you could be me riiiight? I got it so frkn easy. No legit 9-5 plus overtime to deal with my sh*t. No responsibilities solely mine. No financial independence to worry about. No inflictions worth crying about. None of this. Or none of that.
Misspelled words getting me locked up, misdirected affection infecting my chances, so they get sent to the end of the line.

THOUGHTS ON DRAFT ONE?