They Can Bring All My Work To The Museum

Pt3: The pandemic has strained relations and real friends are few and far between at this time.

Not exactly the 'new normal,' I imagined myself at this stage in life.

My mothers recovery still comes with risks, she was sick during Thanksgiving and I cared for her for 6 weeks, but it was not CoVid.

If my mother dies, it will be a lonely life for me and something I must face but at least I can purge it creatively.

It's cleaning out this house that will be a shit ton of work.

I can fit my life in one room, my mom has 70 years of stuff. Ugh.

However, CoVid19 could also sink my ship too because I am not immune, of which I am aware but death does not scare me.

They can bring all my work to the museum.

I would be returning to my former fiance, tucked in the safe arms of love forever.

In retrospect, I use to think my fiance died because I was meant to be with you M.

Your birthdays were only a day apart, and here you are still living; but what a mean, ungenerous, selfish jerk you turned out to be.

At least you bought enough baby slaves from Africa to worship you and keep you from being lonely for the rest of your life.

It always amazed me that you could give to a bunch of strangers dancing around a brush fire because they were black but you could never cut a check for the shit you stole from me.

Which is fine, besides the fact you were never there when I needed you.

I realized the karma will be through your bratty entitled kids.

It is said when someone is born within 72 hours of each other they share the same decedent, and energy but they are so wrong!

You were an unanswered prayer and more like a nightmare.

My sign is ruled by friendship, and you would not know how to be a true friend if your life depended on it.

My only regret is all the time I wasted someone who had no concept of reciprocity, what a waste.

You showed your true colors, when I almost died and lost me forever.

You can't continue to be jealous of the attention I show to others, because you are an ass who thinks every little post is about you.

I've moved on and so should you. Quit stealing my shit, and pay me for the shit you stole.

It's the least you can do.

The irony is, even after losing my fiance. I still pray for my Boaz.

I don't really care what gender they are, just that they get the concept of what love really means and will be there for us like a true friend and love us like family.

If the pandemic has taught me anything it is that lawyers are pieces of shit, justice is not existent, insurance companies run racketeering schemes and their are no f- superheroes.

The only person who will ever save you is yourself.