Hole In The Bag

            So, it has been a week since my mother’s surgery and I can say she’s doing really well. It’s nice to see her smiling and laughing . A lot of her church friends have come to lend they’re support and to also bring food and what not. I’m great full for that. The elders from the congregation have not yet came to see her which I think that’s pretty fucked up. If you are supposed to take care of your “flock” and one of your “sheep” is hurting and needs words of encouragement they are the ones that should be here first . But then again this congregation is full of hypocrisy. But which one isn’t right? That’s the definition of religion. 

            Tomorrow I return to work but only for a couple of hours since I have to take my brother to the doctor and then later also my mom for her check up . I was planning on going back on Thursday and Friday but I feel That I should also take those to days off and just start a fresh new week next week. I know I’m the sole provider but I really want to be here for my mom. 

             I had a mini fight with (my only church/real life friend) which left me feeling guilty . We have a visit at church from someone important and he wanted me to go. I told him I wanted to stay home with my mom. But he took it soon himself to call some people so they would take care of my mom and I would go. That made me upset because it’s not his decision weather I go to church of not. Yes, he’s probably worried about my spiritually but still. He apologized and we said good night. And that was the end of it. 

            After that I felt like I just didn’t have anyone who really understood me. So what do you do when you have only one friend and your mad at that friend so you literally can’t talk to anyone about your problems? You go online and you talk to strangers. Look, it was late and I was irritated, at the moment it sounded like the best idea. And I actually found some guy who lives in Mississippi. Not that that’s close by but still. We talked for two hours then I fell asleep. I haven’t talked to him yet today but maybe later on. Again, I’m usually not the one who reaches out first. 

            I’m feeling overwhelmed just a little bit I can’t let that get to me right now. I just have to find a way to distract myself from everything that’s going on or else my marbles will be lost. 



          Why are people so mean? Or is it that I just live in a ghetto city? Where people don’t give a fuck about what they say or what they do? Where they don’t care how they treat people, or let alone, if they hurt them? Where they only think about themselves?

          Or maybe I was raised right. I was raised to be respectful. I was raised to be kind and to care about others. To treat others the way you want to be treated. But what if you don’t get that in return? Still, I continue to be nice. Am I too good for this city? Or am I just too humble?

          At work there is a wide long cold distance between girls. Some don’t talk to each other because one didn’t say hi to the other for one day. Others because they simply forgot to invited them to a work birthday lunch, then all the sudden they are sworn enemies. All this is so stupid, but why do you girls live like this? It’s almost like they like it. But when they go home do they not feel the pain that the other person must be in? Wondering why they did the things that they did? 

          Then there are guys who, I don’t know why, but for fun they like to say ‘fuck you’ to each other. THERE IS NO POINT IN THIS. So why do it? Then there is that masculinity bullshit. My dick this my dick that, pussy, pussy, pussy. Who cares? Well, actually, who ever does care is one stupid person with no life goals. There’s more in life than your dick dude. 

          I just want to meet a genuine kind person. Not someone who at first will seem like a nice lovely rose, but then turn out to have the most vicious and sharpest thorns of them all. 

          I wish people would be nicer. I wish people would think before they say their hurtful words. I wish people could see how their words can affect people. I wish they could change. But it’s not up to me. That’s the sad part.