Writers’ Blokke
Published in

Writers’ Blokke

Convicts To Be Hanged

X, Y & Z

Thanks for ruining my life

Photo by Steven Aguilar on Unsplash

Dear Unnumbered Boyfriends,

It’s an overdue letter. I hope at least a couple of you will get your hands on this letter. My acidic sting burns your fingers while scrolling through. You know how unsettled, dissatisfied & bitter experience you folks had abandoned me to.

If I knew it’s just attraction, puberty, and the evil intellect of others that puts you on the cloud. Maybe I could have preserved myself from the wrong ones for the right one. I wish somebody would have instructed me not to drain your valuable time instead of using masturbation as a self-happiness tool endowed by God.

I don’t recollect how many heartbreaks have I nurtured too. Whenever I believed it was love, it was something else. I wish I had viewed less of the Hollywood flicks. They spring such a false image of love. Furthermore, you have the porn sites with righteous greed, which I witnessed afterwards as an eye-opener.

Everything was all right, notwithstanding you guys messed with my study time. My ten grade cuts 82% could have been superior identical goes for the 12th standard as these are the essential Biometrics to score in a good college. You screwed up my career, prosperity & my eating habits.

The career options with the grades you guys left to choose was a Worm Hunter — who hunts worms to sell upon eating joints, Hair Boiler — Someone who boils animal hair until it curls or conceivably a Slaughterer — Someone who slaughters the meat that you feed.

Either it would have been best if you had destroyed me. Where I would have left studies forever, I could have become a millionaire or a billionaire as they were all school dropouts. You guy’s didn’t let me score the gold spot there too.

Losing my virginity to the wrong dick wasn’t fair either. I wish my married man had dived before my plight ought to make it worthwhile.

I can never comprehend which part the bloody fun starts.

As it’s an unbearable pain, or why would you make so much noise. High-performance exercise in impossible poses. Excessive perspiration that the air conditioning, in addition, abandons throughout this game of abrupt sex.

Nonetheless, then I feel meeting all the bad guys to acknowledge the right one is necessary as my brawls with my bitter half are justified based on the experience handed down by you guys.

Now I’m stuck with a man who is so good that my mother incessantly states you must have done something good in your past life. You got a guy like him. Men like him don’t exist any longer.

I fill my space that God elected official it’s the moment of redemption.

Hello, it’s a wrong number, nonetheless we can still speak

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