Maybe, when White Muslim Russia finally invades us. Or, I'm right, it's not a mental problem after all, I do have that...it's some weirded out version of Boerian physics combined with the mounting nuclear shit that's affecting me. Maybe even gave me the alleged racial impurities, at the rate it's been claiming that the nuclear shit has always been there.
Weird twosomes all my life, and "welcome to my family, oh by the way, I personally don't exist because I'm so wonderful, NO, you're against MY KIND...now we know what kind you are. you must be that kind...I checked them out, and I'm definitely not a member. So, I think my Dad and Mom both checked that out, and neither of them were members of it too. So did Reggie, my husband, and it is indeed that way, not the other way around. We're all straight, like Sigmund Freud said.
So...that Mama reference to a pair of civil rights bookends named Martin and Malcolm. Dunno, Mama Obama, it's a cock sucking reference. I wouldn't recommend looking for the protein down there; I probably caught bad gonorhhea for giving head. Well, it's not the wisdom of the ages, but there sure was a reference to outright torture being the Fate Worse than Death.
I am hoping things proceed, in spite of my own personal "uniqueness" along the lines that I do get released from Death a bit soon. However, I wasn't aware that killing me off intentionally was always the Master Plan of the Universe, or Multiverse. And I keep getting that shocked rude awakening. I was always a bit aggressive for a girl, but solely due to all that standing around and smoking instead of playing on the playgrounds. So I think I only NEEDED to play as a kid. Seems conspiratorial; it's not out to protect me, Life, nor is out to protect someone else (or several of them) from me. Yes, it seems like it's all there for me (but, actually, against me). That is what they call Paranoid Psychosis, for whatever reason the patient finds the whole world to be conspiring against...them.
Did you ever feel like ALL of your spaces in life have been taken up?
Maybe I could perform such an ultimate act of regression...literally calling out to a very confusing Merle Cole, who couldn't decide if she was a black, a white or a brown woman in this world. She alternated them as often as Mark H. Campos, who through in a fourth or fifth personality. Maybe we "Cherokee Indians" need only one message: alone people, especially women (who were born women, not girls, and had to disown that really fast) find something out.
Something the rest of the world knows: we're too short to go on living.