Freedom of Speech...

When I started this dialogue with the virtual world, it was meant to exercise some demons I didn't know how to get rid of.

I'm not apologizing for what's written and if anything, it's to help others to understand what a woman goes through when thrust into the abyss of the dating pool against her will. This is my story.

Nigga, Ask About Me...

So you felt you were wronged?

How about me?

This is not about you. This is not about how you feel. I no longer care how you feel anymore. Your life is so full now, you shouldn't give a damn about what/who I write about. I'm so over this, now. How dare you dismiss my shit as if it's some bubble gum piece I write in my spare time. How dare you dismiss what I felt as fictional episodes that I express for fun. How dare you chalk up my healing as some cheap assed joke played on you.

I Ain't Said Shit, Yet...

Let me shed some light on a few things. It's been made crystal clear to me, that if I carried on a friendship with you, I would be in denial about who I was. I would be forgiving you for something you don't deserve forgiveness for. See, I think this whole thing made you look at yourself for once. You're not the victim, and you didn't hurt for me. You felt relieved. I'll always stand firm in that belief.

Fuck you...

Thank you, for making me reevaluate a bitter chapter in my life I thought I've deleted. Thank you, for the attempt of making me feel like I was wrong for expressing myself in the only way I knew how. Now I know what part you actually played in the Deluded Memoirs. As for your conditions of friendship, keep them. You were NEVER a friend to me, nor will you ever have the chance to be again.


Consider yourself informed...