My People

I love you. I can’t always deal with you because your smell be off denna MUH*…but I love you.

I can’t save you. I can’t always be your grounding stone in reality. I can’t always be your common sense. I can’t always be the person you call after that break up. I love you, but I can’t be that person. Not anymore. It will literally kill me if I try.

I’ve put living for me on the back burner for so long I forgot what it was like to hop in my truck with a full tank of gas, a packed bag and a pocket full of dem bloonz…just to get into some fuck shit. Maybe end up in a relationship or a nipple in my mouth at the end of the night. Or maybe just another city where I only know 4 people but the only thing they ask of me is to grab a round or 2. We all know I’m VERY good at that.

I don’t love you any less. I don’t want you to go away. I just need to find myself some happy because there is nobody on this Earth that can fix me but me.

Maybe Nona Gaye or *redacted* but that’s a post for a different time.

I’m still here. I’m still Eyan. I’ll still give you my unsolicited advice because I know it makes you laugh…but I can’t keep trying to save the world when I can barely save myself. That’s that Bad Maury Math™ Mela Machinko Da Gawduss.

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