When I was in my 2nd year- I met the wrongest boy for me at that time.
And it cost me my university degree.
Best part, he was not even mine to begin with.
Since then I have had no negative experiences with men.
Well except that other Yoruba boy.
Note the 1st boy was Yoruba too.
These two have provided the blanket with which I shroud Yoruba boys with uselessness and they are both the sole reason i pepper yoruba boys with insults every chance I get.
Why is this important, it is important because, looking back, it sort of makes me a better person.
I know now to steer clear of Yoruba boys and how easily it is for me to get derailed.
this is something I paid and I feel I am still paying dearly for,
But at the same time, I am thankful I did not have this experience when I was 35.
18 seems to be the perfect age to wreck your life, you are you g enough to pretend to learn and old enough to actually listen.
And you have some common sense to actually put your life back on track you know?
The one thing I truly truly truly truly regret is allowing one of the Yoruba boys into my sugar gates,
Following the discussion with my home girls last Sunday, I have been contemplating going for deliverance.
I know- I just can not deal with the what if he drained some of my knowledge thoughts I keep having.
Maybe I am thinking too much?
Or maybe this is a rather serious issue.
I feel like a good night out, it is my friends birthday next week *squeal* I can not wait!
I hope we hit the clubs and boogie down. I feel like I am getting old, who says the word boogie?
1 comment:
With every good (or bad) bye, you learn...
Happy painting the town red...
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