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Read my blog, listen to my shows, read my books...then you'll know me. Thanks.


In A Perfect World

In a perfect world, we'd all get it right the first time. But we never do.

In a perfect world you would have appreciated my friendship when I felt like understanding you more than I should have, when I felt like giving my all and got nothing in return.

In a perfect world you wouldn't have broken the line of loyalty and lied to me about something that you knew was important to me.

In a perfect world you would have appreciated the part I played and all I did when I was there. Now that I'm not, your struggle is 20x harder.

I always take a look at myself.  In my opinion not enough. I know my story better than anyone watching it, although they understand it, they will never feel my revolving pain and the voids that can never be filled.

I'm tired of giving.

People always need me to do this, help them with that. I don't ask for much. A phone call would be nice. Someone to ask me how I'm doing, a message or the statement of acknowledgement would do just fine. But I always find myself feeling betrayed and upset. Used and violated.

I raised their daughter for 8 years. Lost jobs behind making sure she was dressed, homework was done, lunch was packed and she was mentally and emotionally ready for school. What did I get in return? Verbal abuse, countless court dates and my spirit being broken. I'm good.

We were friends for 10 years. Our birthdays are a day apart - then you planned your birthday party on the same date and time as mine...when you didn't even have plans. Now you get mad when I'm short with you on the phone. What can I say?

You can call on me when you need something written, because my talent is exquisitely superb. But you tell my business, talk about me behind my back and give underhanded comments the first chance you get. An opportunist in the first, let me help you better than I ever can...

You sit in silence and watch my every move, so you can jock my style and pass it off as yours. You tell me how miserable and how much of a fake hypocrite I am, when those are the words that describe you perfectly. You put all of your real friends on the back burner to appease those who enable you, but quick to come to me when you have nothing left after feeding them. She said it best when she sang that lyric, "Always remember my friend, the world will change again. And you may have to come back from everywhere you've been."

I'm not perfect. But my good qualities damn sure outweigh my bad ones by light years and if they didn't you wouldn't be so reliant on me to make you look good.

I won't even ask the rhetorical question of who's gonna lookout for me...that question has been answered time and time again. I know who's for me and I know for sure you're against me.

I'm sorry. Even though I want to believe that you wont hurt me and you have the best intentions, I can't let you in, because I'm too wounded to fight off another attack. Here is my olive branch and the white flag before we even begin again.

All I need is my records, my favorite shoes....and my CLK. I'll be fine.

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