Fuck. FUCK! And FUCKING is NOT helping, nor is it the solution.
FUCK!
Crap, that looks way too much like the word DUCK. And I don't mean duck. Stupid feathery bird.
Two fucking years. Seven grand. Dead baby. No baby.
More money. More pain. More tears. More crap.
Shit. Damn.
And how do you shut the thoughts out that threaten to cripple you? To drown you? How do you tell hope and pain to fuck off?
I love who and what I love and I will protect them with every piece of myself and my resources, but I hate what I hate with more passion than you can imagine.
Forget it. Just forget it. That's what I do with the other twenty-three hours of my day.
2 comments:
Yeah....I'm having that kind of day too. I've just found your blog and all I can say is that you aren't alone. So many of us are on this gut-wrenching roller coaster ride.
I love you.
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