(won´t bother you more with my writing, I did figure out a way to get into internet and read you)
I got this one, and people who read me I think they know me a bit,quite a lot actually.
I did say some bad comments but only when I feel that they are bullshitting me in the open of my eyes,
you can read it if you want.
Then I got the other nutcasehttps://whyevolutionistrue.wordpress.com/
whow blocked my comments since they are rational but not to him, and I do not like to put up
the peoples blog but I feel I need to defend me. In WordPress…. go figure this one out.
His comment was “You´re going from this site pal, rudness like yours is not excusable and don´t
let the door hit you on the behinds) Paraphrasing there but that is word almost for word what the
other idiot said from another site. With all my day to day shit I do really have to hear this idiot?
Yes, On the first post I said rude things, yes am I perfect? No, but I had my reasons and profussely
apologized to the Blogger and then came in this other one with his “don´t let the door hit you in the ass”
You punk. Hope I see him face to face. Punk ass, I let it rest cause I´ll get the nerves.
I was going to post a poetry and now I feel like I have to defend myself…
but here goes the poetry!
Mother I´m stuck in a town that is not fun
Do the drug dealers bother me? And the one living 15 feet in the next room to mine?
Answer is NO.
I could send them a by by.( I know you don´t want you to hear this but is my expression art)
Yet I figured out to stay with my computer for now
And if it is not now, I write pen and paper somehow.
I know I chose this
I also know I saved your life, so something good I have to be doing
I´m not perfect
Mother please will you see….
(Not really in her eyes but that is good for me and she is right I could be doing more)
Still bothers me the kid drugdealers…. not because I know them( I know their fathers)
they know me they know where I live e.t.c
bothers me I didn´t follow what mother said, yet again I didn´t followed her said to go to the army…
but that´s a big contradiction, but maybe you go it. Forgot, and that I could´t write she said…
not good writing for sure but something. And now with cáncer who the fuck you think is taking care of her
“most of the time”…… Yes, not perfect at all, but in this shit town there is a respect code if you will,
and yes I took care and will take care of my mother that is 100%, she even makes forget me the alcohol.
Being and experience the army infantry deployed life, this fucking drug dealers know better. Fuck!
Now I feel better, I actually put a barricade in my room, I walk out and in the house with a knife,
almost stabbed one, so that was a great one….although he and five more Marrocans
tried to steal from me and hit me.
Mother forgive me if you can, I won´t go to jail while you are here to stand.
Stay Frosty gents and gentesses.
The poem has a Pink Floyd kind of vibe – subtle with the mother and the inner thoughts
Wishing you a good day Sir Spaniard
I´m good, how is the book doing?
Quiet – and will email you later amigo