Have you ever had a million things to say, but nobody to say them to?

That’s me, as of present.

As you can infer from previous posts, (and, quite frankly, this entire motherflippin’ website) my life is the kind of mess that┬áMr. Clean would shake his bald head at in surrender. As you can imagine, I have a thing or two on my mind.

My social circle is small. Like, point-of-a-freshly-sharpened-#2 Pencil-small. Recipients of my potentially verbalized thoughts are very limited.

And those within my minuscule social circle seem to not want to hear what I have to say. Granted, some of my feelings and grievances are completely irrational, (Not. Rational. I admit it, geez.) but it seems as though lately, I rarely even get the chance to finish.

Now, I’m not playing the vicim here. I found some sort of inspirational quote prompting me to become the heroine in my story, rather than the victim, so that’s what my new mindset, and phone wallpaper, as of recent.

I don’t even want sympathy. Sympathy pisses me off.

I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want.

I want a trusted individual to listen to a complete, raw, uncensored, irrational rant of mine, and not say a single thing until I’ve indicated that i’ve finished. Then, I want them to respond with a Denzel-Washington-From-Remember-The-Titans pep-talk, and a hug.

But for now, I will settle for writing my desires here for you lovely people, and leave it at that.