I killed monday with tuesday. Hit it so hard it gave wednesday a concussion. Which apparently made thursday mad since I messed up his **** day. To get rid of our problems and let bygons be bygons we made a toast in the honor of friendship since it is thirsty thursday. Party was insane. I met this fine girl named Friday. We were both a lil wasted and did somethings grown folks can relate too. I met another girl saturday. Equally as fine as the day before, hungover she said she can take care of me and make me feel better with time. I believed her and let my walls down. I was stripped raw of my layers. Did the same thing I did to friday. What a trip, exctasy until I realized, I arrived and could have picked up some extra baggage in my journey to and fro. I kneeled down on sunday praying for forgiveness and to wake up from this confusing dream. My prayers were answered but with a price to pay. knock knock knock police broke down the door within a moments notice. I am encarcerated for ****** in the first degree of a Monday morning, **** of Friday night and drunken driving on thirsty thursday. I pleaded guilty of loving friday, wanting fun on thursday. Only saturday would speak to me for she loved me, while encarcerated she gave birth to twins, in memorium of my sins I named them monday and tuesday. Wednesday awoke from the coma and married the drunk thursday. Friday is still a carbon spitful copy of saturday. And my faith within sunday still lies within my soul. If I die tonight this will be my final memoir and my sons will become *******. Godwilling they will not be mirror images of Kane and Able. But one will most likely be hated. Sadly these are the days of our lives.