Funny, I felt really good when I left the house this morning. I thought I looked cute. My shame seeped into a frothing rage. The type of rage that can’t be let out because then you’d be that crazy chick that killed three dudes in the bodega and no one would even light a damn candle for you.
Very familiar feeling, at least when I was younger. Now I’m the only one that gets in my head about this.
