Still Writing My Stories

Bet your bottom dollar. I just need to get back to my aesthetic, from the way people are behaving you’d think they weren’t racist, complicit with racism, bullies, trolls, evil, talentless, insecure, talentless nepo-babies, or dingbats who don’t take accountability. Oh, that’s because you are. Trash people. Trash people who came bothering me, running their mouths about me like I know you hoes, when I was minding my business. Did I get it right? Writing my truth releases low vibrations freeing me from an energetic prison. It’s cathartic. My toxic trait is not speaking up until I’m angry, trying to protect others for the sake of avoiding drama. It’s not my job, call out shitty people in the moment. They don’t feel bad, why should you? Via: Iconic_Beauties