Two men who wronged me are now dead.
For legal reasons I have to mention that the men died of natural causes. Buried under natural soil, I’ve heard.
On weekends I like to choke myself and masturbate dressed up as Templeton the Rat from the 1973 animated film “Charlotte’s Web” lying in a pile of food scraps and garbage I collected during the week.
Feels good getting that off my chest.
Ma’am, this is a me’eme comm.
“medeme”?
What the hell did I just read
This is missing Saddam.
What made that show ‘taxi cab confessions’ great back in the day
Question for those polar ice experts out here: what’s an iceberg called if its upper ⅗ shown here’ve eroded away, leaving only the “strangers online” section? 🫠
Tell nobody anything. Internalize it all. Compartmentalize it. Be ADHD. Taco Bell.
Are you me?
I am not a box of feet, if that’s what you mean :D
When people stir up past trauma make sure to get mad so they go away
Confessions to pet…where?
I don’t recommend this, my parrot kept mocking me.
That’s the true “What I tell my therapist”
Iams to pet
Gotta swap that out a bit. Therapist is at the same level as parents. Friends are at the same level as strangers. Because then the strangers become my friends.
Sounds like you need a better therapist.
I don’t really need it, I just have to go for reasons I’m not disclosing.
That’s fair.
(Hannibal Lecter voice) One time I saw a snail moving by my leg as a boy, and I decided to race it. I had nothing to do, so you could imagine how long this race took. You must ask yourself Clarice…do the snails still race for you?
