Really, a bible?
It was bad enough that I had to spend another boring Christmas in Las Vegas, the last thing I needed was a shitty present to add to the list. Thankfully, this year was almost over. I lost my job for the very first time and became depressed, me and my friends are on two different planets since joining the Black Lives Matter movement—becoming the “Al Sharpton” of the family, barely passed the spring semester only to fail the fall. I needed a break, especially after messing up my car.
If my mom didn’t hate me before this gave her a reason to now, on top of being a faggot. Then grandma passed away after my cousin’s suicide and the year before grandpa left the building. Jesus. Can’t anything work in my favor? I guess getting a bible isn’t the worst thing to ever get. It wasn’t an ugly color either, I mean, it was magenta with a leather exterior. Cute. It’s not like I got beef with Jesus or anything, I just can’t be following all those messed up rules its got for women.
Maybe grandma—from my mom’s side, thought it would do me some good. Doubted. I guess I can give it another shot even if it was written badly. Ha! I tried saying that analysis to this guy I use to like, but he didn’t take well to that, fucking Catholics. Oh well, my concern is getting out of my parent’s house if I’m lucky to land a full-time job, shits getting tense around here. Hopefully, next year won’t suck as much. I can use some good charm my way; heck, I might even get back into dancing again. Who knows, I guess just have to wait and see.