My head gasket is gone. Destroyed. I had no injury / injuries going into the fight. I was throwing kicks, planted and jumping, all throughout camp as well as backstage before the fight. This came out of nowhere. I am beyond dark here. I can only describe it as hell.
Nothing makes me feel more alienated from my fellow Americans than everyone’s rabid need to just be standing in lines all the time. If I have to stand in line I’m not going
The wildest part about POVERTY is how much time it steals. Waiting for buses. Calling assistance offices. Comparing grocery prices. Fighting insurance. Sitting at laundromats. Being poor is a second job nobody pays you for.