dear michael row your boat ashore diary,
omg that was the BESTEST dinner. mexican people can throw down. all you have to do is put it in your mouth and chew. i like that in food. when you hafta doctor shit up to make it tasty- man- does that take the fun out of eating or what? shovel that shit in and swallow. hail to the yes. and onions- wow. that's what i am talking about. i love onions. i usta hate onions- but when i met my biological mom- she told me i was gunna love them one day- and eighteen years later- i do. oh shit- it's almost the anniversary of our meeting. we met march 13, 1992. it was a friday. it is hard to believe it's now almost nineteen years- but counting on my fingers- making it almost twice back on both hands- that's what it is. thinking i've known her longer than the mother who raised me- pains me in ways i cant even try and put into words- because i don't even know that woman- yet i know who she is. so that's weird. once you know who someone is- you can't not know, yet- you never really know anyone. but i KNEW my mom who raised me, or at least i thought i did. she sure did know me. i couldn't get away with SHIT. my birth mother doesn't know shit about me- except- she was right- i did end up likiing onions- nineteen years later.
omg that was the BESTEST dinner. mexican people can throw down. all you have to do is put it in your mouth and chew. i like that in food. when you hafta doctor shit up to make it tasty- man- does that take the fun out of eating or what? shovel that shit in and swallow. hail to the yes. and onions- wow. that's what i am talking about. i love onions. i usta hate onions- but when i met my biological mom- she told me i was gunna love them one day- and eighteen years later- i do. oh shit- it's almost the anniversary of our meeting. we met march 13, 1992. it was a friday. it is hard to believe it's now almost nineteen years- but counting on my fingers- making it almost twice back on both hands- that's what it is. thinking i've known her longer than the mother who raised me- pains me in ways i cant even try and put into words- because i don't even know that woman- yet i know who she is. so that's weird. once you know who someone is- you can't not know, yet- you never really know anyone. but i KNEW my mom who raised me, or at least i thought i did. she sure did know me. i couldn't get away with SHIT. my birth mother doesn't know shit about me- except- she was right- i did end up likiing onions- nineteen years later.
