The mark

I wouldn´t consider him a man,
he is just a target for me, complete detachment as when I was in the army and deployed.
I should think more about writing and creating,
but life is life, so this Marrocan “friend” better give me my 20 Euros and my debit card,
I will go an kill him, no punches this time, they were actually two guys, I can deal with one
and two, but that was before my health problems, not now. Mother died, I have nothing to loose at this point
plan is
to wait, wait and wait until he does not expect it. Then attack, and not punching this time.
What a weird writ I gained a … shit.
Out it goes, he wil actually read this since the whore of herself proclaimed girlfriend
that lives in a whore house and she proclaimed it on my fathers Facebook… bit weird this girl,
so all the Marrocans know her intimately, that is not so crazy but reality. Does piss me off when
I get robed. Time to time, as the saying goes in Spain ” La venganza se sirve en plato frio”
So that is that and now I feel better puting it out, I know the consequences of it, but right
now it is kind of a yoga for me, keeps me calm if I write, and in public… figure that one out.

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