Shit happens!

Well to me this is not what happens, I have a build up
inside me, till it gets painful, then brown rain. And the embracement of dealing
with this.

It is humiliating having to explain myself when it happens,
every fucking time. To the uneducated, Irritable Bowel Syndrome (or IBS,) Is
NOT CUREABLE, there is not a magic pill, not a procedure that can cure it, I have
to watch what I eat, what I drink for the rest of my life, and it is shit because
what your left with is the blandest, tasteless rubbish imaginable.

Then are the tablets, one to take the bloating and cramps
away, one to take the brown stuff, and one to take the pain away, it’s a wonder
that when I walk I don’t rattle.

Oh and don’t forget the depression tablets, without them I would
be a raving psycho. I’m also a paranoid werdo that thinks the world is against
me.

What next I here you roll with laughter at my poor little me
rant, well I’m hanging on this dirt ball in space, with grim death. I walk through
life with a mask, yes on the outside the flamboyant andi, who screams GAY to
the world, this is NOT me, I am a quiet wee mouse, as I mentioned I’m a
screaming paranoid person, who thinks the world is out to get me, this is not a
new thing, this was fucking hammered into me through school, trying not to be
the GAY FREAK, you have no idea how fucking evil children are, till you’re on
the end of the bulling, its fucking hateful, and I wish I could say that was a generation
thing, it’s not it changes with every generation, to something more shittier.

That’s why I walk through life like a fucking flamboyant idiot,
when all I want to do is crawl into a ball and hide away from the world. It literally
KILLS me every day to put on the act, and it is an act, you ask my family,
because I refuse to be that scared little kid again. There is NO fucking way I will
go back to that again.

Anyhoo night night