blogging is whispering your thoughts to a laptop, immediately regretting it, and then asking the laptop if it thinks you’re brave.
A Jamaican. A FireStarter. And The Rise of the Shoe Monster.
It is important we get something sorted right. My mother loved ALL of my friends. Never one more than the other. Never the same at once. And never did she not speak her mind to them. Through actions, words, or asinine behaviour… you knew how she felt and where you stood. Your status could change by the minute but in the end of days, she loved you and always apologized for any miscommunication on the matter. Or didn’t. C'est la Vie.