
It’s “World Narcissistic Abuse Day“ once again, and perhaps the best way for me to memorialize my thoughts is to reiterate ones I had on this day three years ago:
… for me, growing up felt mostly like constantly falling out of a bloodied and blackened sky as a million tiny shards of glass. My parents had all of my pieces in their hands, but courtesy of their own toxic childhoods, were unable to see or catch my scattered pieces, much less put them back together. Lol. “Generational trauma” … the gift that just keeps on giving. As a result, I was given no choice but to find a way to pick up, make sense of, and mend my shards alone.
(“The Shardsman, The Hammer & The Glue” … from The Diary Of My Perfection)

With that, and again to all you walking trash bags out there reading this right now who reproduced before getting your broken pieces in order such that your cuts ended up bleeding out on to your babies, here’s a ‘lil nugget for you to chew on while you’re still alive … Why not at least try to find a way to give your “loved ones” (lol) a reason to cry at your funeral instead of having to sit up in the front row feeling awkward as holy FUCK while the people sitting behind them are wondering, “Who da fuck doesn’t cry at their own parent’s funeral?”
(“Cutting The Cord“)
… and so, with that, I say to you THIS:
Get yourself into therapy all you “mom things” runnin’ around out there flipping over them cradles you were entrusted with! For Christ’s actual sake, have yourself exorcised, if necessary, all you malignant excuses for “dads” out there breaking human souls for sport such that they end up choking on the endless stream of sugary piss water YOU brought home for their mothers to serve!
Just … do … SOMETHING to heal your damn self before it’s too late, because your kids never asked to be born or signed up for a lifetime of your fucked up beyond comprehension “parenting“. They deserve so much better than having the people who brought them in to all this bullshit bleeding their open wounds all over their innocence and childhood! Dare I say that THE worst prison in the world is a childhood “home” filled with parents who at war with themselves. Don’t sentence your kids to one!





































































































































