woke up to a pic of my possible seed, couldn’t breathe or believe - had to leave. hit the bathroom - showered in bleach. dried off with steel wool, and used a hair brush to brush my teeth. completely clean yet diseased to believe I’m dirty like the beast. call him satan, I call him pops. now the devil had a junior with junior I swear it never stops. a family tree meant to bleed when limbs snap from the breeze. geeezz. I need to be a little more positive. gaspin’ or weezin’, ya boy still breathin’ similar to my possible seedling..