Fuck integrity, rules, and the game of love played through war

I just in the last ten fucking minutes realized a very important piece of information.

Eerie has been pressing in close the last week and I could not fucking figure out why. This morning I realized why.

The Ex kept a painting. So fucking creepy. He liked it. I am ultimately not surprised.

That's stealing.

I am relieved to know why I've been off and what that tickle in my mind has been about. It's strange having half memories that work their way to the surface. Trauma does that to a brain.

If you see this painting consider it stolen property. It looks much better in person. I promise.