Ever feel like you're actually at the point where you'll break if something else doesn't give? I screech up to that precipice at nearly full speed and then brake. It isn't a game of chicken. It's that I don't realize how close I am to that precipice until I'm right up on it.
Shoes smokin' like Frederick P. Flintstone's feet...
Dating...
Y'all been doin' this shit all these years? No wonder half of y'all are completely fucking nuts. Shit. Everybody's looking for The One, while they're hangin' out with The Few; but talkin' shit to the many. The fear is palpable. I can smell it...like a schmear on the bottom of my shoe ill-gotten by stepping on an shitty, unseen Pamper left out in the Georgia sun for the six hottest hours of the day. She's thinking, "If I give one mo' muthafukkah a piece of my heart and he breaks it, it might drive me insane." But, she'll never say it. He's thinking, "If I go out with another chick portraying herself like she's a lady, but she's actually crazy as fuck..."
More later, maybe. I just dozed.
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You'll likely BUST if you don't say it. Spill it and save somebody the clean up...