Ending a Bad Year With a Prose
Really, a bible?
It was bad enough that I had to spend another boring Christmas in Las Vegas, the last thing I needed was a shitty present to add to the list. Thankfully, this year was almost over. I lost my job for the very first time and became depressed, me and my friends are on two different planets since joining the Black Lives Matter movement — becoming the “Al Sharpton” of the family, barely passed the spring semester only to fail the fall. I needed a break, especially after messing up my car.
If my mom didn’t hate me before this gave her a reason to now, on top of being a faggot. Then grandma passed away after my cousin’s suicide and the year before grandpa left the building. Jesus. Can’t anything work in my favor? I guess getting a bible isn’t the worst thing to ever get. It wasn’t an ugly color either, I mean, it was magenta with a leather exterior. Cute. It’s not like I got beef with Jesus or anything, I just can’t be following all those messed up rules its got for women.
Maybe grandma — from my mom’s side, thought it would do me some good. Doubted. I guess I can give it another shot even if it was written badly. Ha! I tried saying that analysis to this guy I use to like, but he didn’t take well to that, fucking Catholics. Oh well, my concern is getting out of my parent’s house if I’m lucky to land a full-time job, shits getting tense around here. Hopefully, next year won’t suck as much. I can use some good charm my way; heck, I might even get back into dancing again. Who knows, I guess just have to wait and see.