. XXX . . . . . . . …ehh its late illpost this and write the rest of it in two weeks… after about three stomps my vision was getting blurry i closed my eyes waiting for the next hit but it never came. my mother was always going out to the clubs and i would sneak out to the tree and sit there for hours and sing a song my dad always whistled. we’d make motions to try to understand each other and eventualy we began to learn each others language. we sat there cuddled under the tree talking till mornming and did the same till she left. there where a lot of kids there but i had changed after my dad died turning inverted.
