Pissing on myselfie don’t get raped in texas

i was about to write about trump again and this article came up and i was like woe wtf.  wtf is this shit and how did it feel to after all that to have walk around and not just go to sleep like you want to.  so dont get raped in texas stacy they do not give two fucks to rub together or to put in buckets. http://www.cosmopolitan.com/politics/a58941/dinisha-ball-rape-kit-texas-emergency-room/?src=longreads

but i guess that goes with trump when you ghink about it bc he doesn’t give two or three fucks in general.  especially about black people or women or anyone really other than the guy looking back in the mirror.  my new teacher asks what value he contributes to our being and i thought wtf are you smoking.  she was not smoking tho and i was sitting there thinking about pissing on trump like GOLDENLY ha!   I was like what if he fell down a well on some kind of abandened countryside and i walked by and could hear like Hellooooooo help me.  I would go over and see him down there in the murk and hed be like stacy help me and i’d be like ok and take big nasty piss down his well.  hot.  sizzly when it hit the side and watered down

i wanted to say this in class but thought that it was a bad idea and wouldnt contribute to the conversation like she said we should.  then i thought what if i helped him for a long time and he had to just drink my pee a lo and that’s how he survived.  but if he’s some deep down part of all us like my teacher said i thought oh i am pissing on myself fuck.  whatever i still would do it i think and i might feel bad at first but then i would think about all the people he wants to kill or make hungry waterboard and i would scream down the hole, “Hey man I AM HELPING YOU” bc technically i am its just the deleivery.  nobody wants to drink pee idt and if they do thats just funny but whatever

i started thinking about people trapped in places after that and what i told my doctor about the numbers when think about who could be trapped in a basement somewhere like a prisoner.  like you know it happens and if it does then prob a least one or two in your town and then that’s weird.  last year i thought one was close to my house like at night i could hear her thoughts or something like that and she was like help me.  but i know that it is a FIGMENT OF MY IMAGINATION and you can’t hear peoples thoughts or they cant put them to you.  my doctor said its ok to journal about it and i said fuck you and your’re cunty journal and he just squinting his eyes real close and opened some drawers.  i knew he was writing more about me but i didn’t care that day bc i felt bad for the woman even tho she wasn’t real.  that shit would suck so bad to be stuck down there and cant leave and i would bit his fucking dick off no matter if he shoot me

 

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