about your dumb ass, ignorant comments. in Musings

My mother lives in the shit part of town.

I grew up in the shittiest neighborhood and for some reason I survived because I was charismatic. The crackheads looked up to me. The alcoholics protected me. I didn’t really understand why, I never understood there motives, but they were my imperfect, psychologically impaired angels.

Now as an adult, I realize that they watched over me because I was different in a way that never shut them out. They were the outcasts and lepers of society and I would sit down with them, related to them and cried with them on how society and destiny has dealt us a shitty ass card.

So although I may slap down on this journal that I live in a ridiculously expensive home and I’ve purchased it…and although I say I wear two-thousand dollar shoes and 500$ t-shirts and I’m just a hair dresser…I’m really not just some fancy ass pretentious bitch with a lot of money…I have money because I sucked all the right dicks and raped all the opportunities that were placed in my path. I’m not just a hair dresser… I’m an investor in my company and even when I decide to overdose on xanax and a bottle of champagne, I still make money… and even when the company doesn’t make money I have investments that I can live off of… and even when I feel like I can’t live off of those investments I have a husband who is a trust fund baby who lives off of his own investments---- so the hate comments and the saying that I’m a narcissistic bitch needs to stop. I worked my ass off to be who I am and I sucked so much dick to get to where I am and to secure that NEVER again will I have to see my family or my mother suck dick for me to get bread and milk. Before you call me a narcissistic, self-involved bitch, understand that I brandished all of my opportunities.

SO fuck you. Regardless of what you say, I only think that you are an asshole who knows shit about the anonymous writer that you read. You only know what I allow you to know.

I went to my mom’s ghetto neighborhood and my friendly neighborhood crackhead who refers to me as “Basquiat” because she thinks that I am too good to exist and too much of a mess for where I grew up in, hugged me and cried to me about how she was being looked for by her crack dealer. So I found a guy, of a guy, of a guy and paid him $600 to clear her of her debt. In retrospect, it was a stupid thing to do because I mean, survival of the fittest…but this was the woman that would protect me at 17 from drug dealers…

this was the woman that told me that her father would rape her… rape her in front of her mother and sister…rape her so violently that she would bleed for days… raped her so violently that she had an abortion by him 3 times… and twice with a wire hanger in a filthy “abortion specialist”… no wonder she’s on fucking crack… my life wasn’t as violent and I abused the shit out of drugs to forget and numb myself… to make life more fun— yet I’m a narcissistic twat who lives in a million dollar home…but I’m still the guy that paid her murderer crack dealer $600 to clear her debt.

She calls me Basquiat… because before she got into crack heavily she wanted to be a curator and she went to college for art history until she became pregnant by her father and her mother said “I can’t help you”. How fucking miserable is that?!!?!?!?! How fucking absolutely disgustingly miserable is humanity if your own mother can’t help you?! and we bonded over how miserable life is in the ghetto and she never asks me for money… she only asks that I make more money, and get the fuck out of the ghetto. And she cried… and cried and cried and I felt that she never had the chance to cry to someone because she was made to feel worthless.

before you write hateful comments on this public ass forum…understand that i am a bitch who makes tons of money and has ways to make more money because i never, ever want to be the crackhead on the street wondering how my life would have turned out.

so while i tell you all about my million dollar collection of shoes and my million dollar apartment and my million dollar husband and my million dollar ring… it’s not narcissism, it’s that i earned it all and i raped every opportunity and i sucked everyone’s dick who could get me out of the fucking ghetto that i lived in. i’m not narcissistic, i’m a should have been statistic turned into a happily ever after tale… i’m the .5% from the ghetto.

when you flip through this shitty blog understand that I only allow you to know what I want you to know. and if i were a much more fucked up person than I am… you’re dumb internet words would make me crumble, but i’m me and I don’t give a shit—but if you’re so gun-ho about it all, you probably say what you say to me to someone who is very fragile and would take your cheap internet words to heart.

watch what you fucking say to people—in person and in the internet world… you don’t know how your dumb ass comments will affect someone.