My diary, journal, muse, therapy. why do they elude me when I need them. They seem to grow wings and fly away. or wait do they disappear? However it is, they fail me when I need them. One would think words will be there in time of trouble, when in a fix or just when confused, but alas! They leave you to your demise making you appear, silly, stupid or inept.

Life tosses some obstacles along your way and one is expected to count on experiences and learn lessons. Later that night, she could barely look at their faces as they had dinner. It was even worse w.

These words shall be my legacy. I used to be a rapper. I used to be a dancer. I used to read a lot. I used to have friends visit me at home. I used to be more social. I used to write poetry. I used to be a sculptor. I used to draw regularly. I used to make music. These are words I hope to never say. I used to make photographs.

I got lost people, i fucking got lost. I mean, i could die right now and how would they bury me? With unruly vag hair? I mean sharp enou.

I would tell you a fearful tale as is traditional of this time but the night is cold, the jars of ale have run dry, I am taken with boredom and my mind wanders to memories of things bygone. Permit me then, to tell you a different kind of story, one based on both truth and legend and born of the evil that lives in the hearts of men. He was seized bodily, beaten violently and dragged to the .

Get me outta here! In the search for who I am, I have become who I am not. What would the people think? Oh God. I just lost a child. God, please, I just want my husband back.

maybe I lied! Skip to primary content. Life sets the test questions, I sit back and grade your scores. Yes you care for me but is that your nature or you just doing a business transaction? Bring out the best or the worst? Cos we in this for. Do You Know Me? .

This gallery contains 8 photos. Originally posted on The Kink And I. The African Naturalistas review I promised is here. At our last Naturals in The City meetup, I was given a nice bag of African Naturalistas products to try out. Another issue is how literally no guy was in a relationship before he migrated to this village.

Journal Of A Girl With Dark Humour. This year was a mix of the good, the bad and the ugly but. Every year I say this, and every year it gets truer. Even through all the bad. As usual I will tell you about my year month by month. Wah you tryna do bruv, you want me to fail? Get thee behind me, Satan.