My mother decided to possess me on Christmas. I don’t even know what the word for it is, now that I think of it. She decided to think for me, make decisions for me, turn me into an inverse slave. Her baby. Fuck. What a slave dealer. She assumed things. She said why don’t you have a cup of coffee. I already made one for myself a few minutes ago. She does not observe these things. She’s old. What can I say.

Brother the dictator wants everything “Nice”. Just like what killed David Foster Wallace. He wants this. More suicide!

Dad is mild by comparison.

Happy Christmas.


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