HOME AGAIN: Yesterday I died a little more than the day before. And all the days before.Im so glad that I had the chance to let go choose death to live again. Im so glad that I had the sense to let go and let God make me hole again.You came with such power. Planted inside me love by words. Suppose to hurt?Yesterday I died a little more .You knew all the answers. You knew all the ways. Got lost. This aint my home.Yesterday I died a little more than the days before.Found a see-through bottle put inside a message; Please wont you say a prayer for a girl. In love.Yesterday I died a little more.Im so glad that I had the chance to let go choose death to live again. Im so glad that I had the sense to let go and let God make me hole again. Im home again.I was borne in the middle of July on a lovely Sunday evening in to a highly dysfunctional family. Being the youngest I take no blame, they where fucked up before my arrival. But anyhow if one is to be completely honest I dont think that I made matters any better, having a vivid imagination and being sure that there where not just six people living in our house...the ghosts had to count as well! Me seeing dead people did not make my mothers beforehand fragile nerves any stronger.................................................... ................................................Anyways as a little girl my all time hero was John Wayne, I was going to be a cowboy when I grew up take myself a handsome hunk of an Indian for a hubby and fight evil and racism while he stayed at home raising our children...little did I know. Later I found out that the occupation of a cowboy was a mans job and staying home with the kids a womans job. When suggested that I become a cowgirl I changed my mind about all the cow business and fighting evil and decided to become a monk. No hunk of an Indian as a hubby for me but still a fairly exiting live, studying and singing Gregorian himns. In my mind I would grow fat and bald and I quite enjoyed the thought. Needless to say I never became a monk, for it my dear is not a womans job. I was told that I could become a nun for that is more up a womans alley, but for my taste nuns were far too black and white plus SKINNY. How ever the closest I came to being John Wayne was being called vein for when at puberty and I started to grow (God was quite cheep in that department) my brothers told me that I was a girl and that girls are vein. So I decided to be Kolbra Vein, the best version of me I could be, ergo Brutal Princess. Brutal Princess is a girl who embraces her feminine and masculine qualities and aws at all steriotyping. Stereotyping is one of the worst human terrorism against themselfs ever!!! It still amazes me when people tell me they think Im feminine for in my mind as well as my heart Im still a cowboy or a fat bald monk
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I like drinking from the bottle/can . It´s just better.