I got bored again or actually sleep deprived. Remember those times as a kid that it was cool to stay up late and never sleep?  No wonder as teenagers we all wanted to stay home and sleep. Actually the most sleepy people were teens of my age at that time. Today I would love to be sleepy. Even when I’m tired I can’t really sleep these days. Maybe it’s all the ******* we have to encounter on a daily basis. Funny how ****** up on how online stores try to sell you on their ******* miracle stress ads. Stress the number one killer being in their title. I’m like ***** really? Because ******* like this is the number one killer. Reading lies on a day to day basis does **** don’t you think?  Don’t get me tangled into that ******* political propaganda ******* that everyone is involved in. Because I really don’t give a ****. All that crapola is another way of killing you off early. I don’t care who said what and how either. ******* and screaming and having parties with balloons, pizza and ***** won’t solve anything. Stressing out over something is killing us all.  Not just us but it’s invading our tv shows, movies and sanity. ***** our expensive *** televisions, computers, and internet all together. Throwing all that money away when we could buy a bicycle or **** *** **** to wear as we walk as far as our legs will allow us to. The best experiences in life for me was getting the **** out of my house and enjoy the outdoors. Then again I did have a car reposed. So I really didn’t have a choice. But I’m glad that took that ugly *** car. Many of my best adult memories was walking and taking the city bus when available. I didn’t realize how much **** I was missing out on. Little stores or art pieces to beautiful scenery that was always there but was blind because I was behind a wheel with speeding ******* that love their horns or didn’t know how to drive to where I was put into a position to keep myself and any occupants with me alive. Maybe they need to sleep too.

I really want to hate you
But really I had moved on
You can move on too

I really hate visiting the same place
Being dragged on is no fun
All the great things if we had space
The adventure had been done

only end is between me and you
Dark horrible places take spaces
Something we both hate so why go
We seen much prettier places

Fifty bees fly by and in the sky
Finding a new life and to decide
Deciding if pollination is predication

Show no stings and fly with wings
Let it all go and live life and be happy
That’s how it should all be until the
Fat lady sings

Should we give up?  Actually should I give a **** anymore?  I bet a thousand ****** dollars you have thought the same ****. I really can’t tell you what the **** is wrong with people. I can tell you what the **** is wrong with me. I do go to a psychiatrist.  

Yea surprise surprise. I do wish many would go. It really isn’t what you think it is. My parents were like oh no nothing wrong with our sweet baby. Nothing wrong with us or what we did or our seed. They were full of **** just like everyone else. They should go too actually.

You can’t always win all. You can sure put up a big ******* fight. This ******* politics is exhausting and boring crap. You want to stand out?  Save your breathe and energy into something that you actually stand for. Not because of ******* or someone said. Who really gives a **** about what someone says?  

I really don’t give a **** about what someone says. Just because they said it?  Because they post it? Because they tweet?  Because they have several ****** up losers following them?  It’s all a ******* joke. Put your big girl or boys ******* in. Grow something if you have too and actually make a difference.
Not hard people but could be but bring it without exhaustion

I’ve been called all kinds of ****. Even a dude once. That ******* doesn’t bother me one bit at all. I can be dancing at a club or a **** hole that wants to be a club. The thing is ladies are pretty. We look nice, smell nice, and accessorize. All be **** if some dude with a hundred dollar suit comes in and he can’t buy me one ******* drink. Like 6 dollars, really?  My shoes cost more than what you’re wearing.
I really don’t give a **** what anyone calls me. Maybe I could be dude. At least I would know how to dress and please a woman. Too bad I’m not a dude. I could get off with all kinds of ******* Scott free. Cheap suits and treat myself. Then again it would not be my style.

Dudes do have it rough sometimes too. Depending on the women they get involved with. Hell could be family or upbringing. Who the hell the knows. I can tell you my son the dude would ******* know better. Women spend so much time looking good, well **** my son would be spending much time in not only treating women right but choosing the right one.

Yea choosing the right one. Strikes a nerve in everyone. Always has. You know what?  It always will. Not always easy to raise the right boy. Too much ******* on television anymore. High or low expectations, that everyone has lost their ******* minds. Nothing wrong with going old school because it’s never been proven wrong. Am I wrong?

I’ve been through a lot. Been told I could write a book. To be honest I couldn’t remember all that ****. One thing is I do remember what does stand out. I guess is to where the beginning happens and where it ends off.

I honestly don’t know where to begin. Not like you want to know me. Who the **** are you too?  You know what?  ******* too. Since we are well aquatinted now then maybe we do know each other.

How are you and how you been?  I’m great. Could be better but you know. **** happens all the time. Yea I heard about your **** too. That’s *****. Pretty ****** up man. I hear that **** all the time dude.

I guess you heard all my **** too?  Yeah. Pretty much. No one has nothing better to do but to post up garbage. I don’t really care though. Anyone who knows me would know better.

I don’t think I like people much. I feel like pulling my hair out. Terrible things happen all the time but you have to find a way through them. I’ve been ******* on, yelled and screamed at, cussed and ****** on.

Sometimes the **** was consensual. Hey what ever floats your boat. Not like I would judge you for any excursions. If it makes you happy and it’s legal nor lethal, go for it. Life really is short.

Turns out that I really don’t like writing and I get bored. I’m bored now. I don’t even want to high light or discuss what I said earlier. Not an Indian giver, just hate going through ****. Thoughts and detail do hurt.

Blah blah blah.  So don’t you ever ask yourself how in the hell did I end up here?  Is it just me or did we all just **** up?  There is always a reason why our lives ended up the way they did. I didn’t ******* put you there but maybe you came along for the ride. I rode along with plenty of strangers here and there.

Strangers are never quite as they seem. If anything they make up about 90 percent of our existence. I **** you not on that one. Your bestie or pal or whoever you are ******* or ******* right now only makes up one percent. Strangers is who we are and the most forgotten of all people in the world. You remember that cool *** party when you’re underage but don’t remember the driver? Maybe the supplier?  **** maybe that cashier that made it all possible even though they knew ****** better?

Either or you get it. You should because the people who you know are surround with haven’t always been on that life’s journey or ride with you. We tend to forget all the insignificant people that made our lives what they are now. We make our own choices but sometimes a commercial in between does tweak us and yes strangers do fit in between that.

Do you actually remember a great stranger experience?  Please let me know if you do. I have very many of them. Many pleasurable and many scary and down right wrong. What’s yours?

Just wondering if this could be a good movie idea:
After a recent terrible breakup, she goes through left over old external hard drives. Being computer illiterate, she also comes across a old Apple computer. Learning as she goes, she unravels many mysteries. Who was she actually living with? Who was she actually dating? The old Apple computer was the exes father who was Russian decent and came by boat during the war over to America. His son Mark is who she hooks up with. Being both from California and having met in North Carolina looks like a great match. After the break up she realizes she never knew much about mark who was very secretive about his upbringing. She finally gets to learn about computers, hard drives and electronics. One thing what’s the master password for the computer? The hints are Valérian and original. Going through much, she becomes a nut over this trying to unlock something she knows nothing about.
Let me know what you think.
Thanks

I’ve been through a lot. Been told I could write a book. To be honest I couldn’t remember all that ****. One thing is I do remember what does stand out. I guess is to where the beginning happens and where it ends off.

I honestly don’t know where to begin. Not like you want to know me. Who the **** are you too?  You know what?  ******* too. Since we are well aquatinted now then maybe we do know each other.

How are you and how you been?  I’m great. Could be better but you know. **** happens all the time. Yea I heard about your **** too. That’s *****. Pretty ****** up man. I hear that **** all the time dude.

I guess you heard all my **** too?  Yeah. Pretty much. No one has nothing better to do but to post up garbage. I don’t really care though. Anyone who knows me would know better.

I don’t think I like people much. I feel like pulling my hair out. Terrible things happen all the time but you have to find a way through them. I’ve been ******* on, yelled and screamed at, cussed and ****** on.

Sometimes the **** was consensual. Hey what ever floats your boat. Not like I would judge you for any excursions. If it makes you happy and it’s legal nor lethal, go for it. Life really is short.

Turns out that I really don’t like writing and I get bored. I’m bored now. I don’t even want to high light or discuss what I said earlier. Not an Indian giver, just hate going through ****. Thoughts and detail do hurt.