Praying to St Joseph

I suffered a quiet suicide on Wednesday.  I had been penned in since my “birthday dinner” on Sunday evening at a nice restaurant nearby which took SEVERAL nasty turns.  My son was there which made it beautiful.  But the g-rents lost it on rhe way hone after several inappropriate incidents.  They say beggars cant be choosers but this goes beyond that.  They erte crude sbd ill-tempered.  So i said something.  Im oldet now too, way begore my time   I am learning to speak up.  And although it didnt feel like it, the world did not blow up and nobody has died yet although my mother has me worried about my som.

It sure felt like armageddon here this week.  So i went out late wednesday night to buy a Megamillions ticket–or was it Tuesday?  And i was too late so i went out the next day and bought 5 powerball tickets.  And then i spent all day daydreaming of dying in bed here with the winning ticket in my hands, and thinking if all the people who would get some of the money.  It was a morbid fasntasy rhat reflects the morbid and infantile tate my mother left me in over going to Costco.  She abandobed not once but twice after i agreed to submit myself to her wish that i go there with her

About Kone she said “were old.”  Thats b.s. theyre the same as they ever were .

St. Joseph is the st of bounty.  If i had enough money i would be able to call my own shots.  I was made a ward of the state when i was 24.  I lived through marrying.  Now im alone.  The only readon my parents have me here (post-divorce) is pay me back for a blog post i wrote back in 2910, when i first bought my own computer), that humiliated them.  I might be inviting disaster by posting  this but its the truth.

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