Truth Hurts

If your "friends" just consist of people that you know from work or of people that you know through your significant other, your character is flawed. If you have no childhood friends, your character is flawed. The problem can't be everyone else. The problem is you. 
The truth hurts. 
If you don't have the ability to start and maintain real and genuine relationships, chances are you're a self centered pig. You're probably negative and bitter. You're probably incapable of happiness and therefore cannot honestly reflect it to anyone else. 
Chances are you have issues from your past. Most likely your parents. Our first relationships are those formed with our parents. If you have a broken or fucked up bond with the adults that you grew up with you will have broken and fucked up bonds in all other relationships. If you are clueless, you will continue to go through life with blinders on. You will never be fixed. Forever broken.
People with a good core have the ability to look past the damage of others. We are capable of being hopeful for you. We hope that you are one day able to realize that despite your mask, you are a pretentious monster. We are hopeful that one day you will be smart and brave enough to realize that you are poisonous to everyone around you as well as yourself. We are loyal and loving. We help you when no one else is around to help you. We hope that you will learn from our example. Because you have forged fake relationships in every sense of the word, you will never learn. 
Those of us with light in our auras are smart enough to be happy once we've removed you from our lives. You are poison. You may accomplish certain things in life but that will not change the fact that you are garbage. With enough toilet water, even a turd can float. Even if you end up married with children, you will always be alone. 
Truth hurts. 

I Think I F*cked Up....

I think I fucked up. I quit a corporate job at Ralph Lauren I hated, gave up an apartment I loved because my lease was up, sold my car and put all of my shit in storage in order to make my big move to Florida. That was in September. Florida didn't work out quite the way I had imagined. My swimsuit website (www.SweetToti.bigcartel.com) is doing alright but I'm not the multi thousandaire (is that a word ?) that I had planned on being. I was supposed to be 20 lbs lighter, 2 shades darker and sipping frozen tangerine margaritas on South Beach while I filled swimsuit orders and iMessaged my boyfriend from my iPad. 

I really think I fucked up. 

In reality I'm depleting my savings and searching for a new overpriced apt in cold ass Brooklyn. Its 31 degrees as I write this. The only tan I have is from my MAC NC50 Studio powder foundation.  I have to re enter the work force and go thru interviews to work with pretentious bitches and spend $60 a week on french vanilla coffee in the morning and expensive salads for lunch. I will probably have to remain in the fashion industry because the ends of my hair are Superman blue and I have 15 tattoos.  I refuse to kill my soul with long sleeved blouses, wide legged business pants and uni color hair. Fuck that. 

I suppose that I should hold off on buying a car right now. I could use that money to get new boobs and a new ass. I could be an exotic dancer for 2 months and save every penny. Then I can move to Florida and dance at King of Diamonds in Miami. My stage name would be 'Brooklyn' or 'New Yawk' to represent my home town. I'd always wear a Brooklyn Nets fitted and a bikini from my swimsuit line while I performed. Cheapest and most clever way to advertise. After 3 years of dancing, I should be able to retire and concentrate on my business.

That sounds about right. 

Maybe I didn't fuck up as badly as I thought. 

Maybe looking like a black version of Kim Kardashian is my destiny. They say sometimes your plans don't work out because God has better ones. Maybe this was my path all along. Don't judge me.