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Baby steps to a better me

I’m half Italian and so I’m going to use that as my excuse for my awful temper. But I’m trying to become a person. Im at a loss as to what do right now..my seething rage is swallowing me whole. Breathe, count to 10, count to a hundred million, bite my fist til I bleed.. What takes this awful feeling away so I imagecan return to my non- homicidal self again?
I’m going to breathe and focus on something else. I’m going to do a picture of Krampus.. Which I only just learned of. December 5th is krampusnacht, when bad kids are hit with rusty chains by a demonic figure.

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I wish more people were as cool as my son

My sons dad made a comment the other day that our son was weird. I was about to protest this but then it dawned on me… My son is weird. He Hes 4 going 90. He’s a total hypochondriac and oddly morbid. Maybe he inherited it from my great grandfather, Big Daddy, a truly amazing person but who was always coated in iodine. My son has all kinds of quirks, like his relationship with food. He has to play with his gummy bears, lollipops or candies. He sniffs his hands after shaking hands with others (I won’t even lie, I thinks it’s hilarious. That’s what you get for shaking a four year olds hand). He loves everyone and never meets a stranger. The meanest lady at the store will even smile when he says hi to her. I’ve had to tell him to not touch strangers. He acts out all his favorite cartoons, very dramatically. He has a sense of humor which is something I don’t think you can teach. He does a decent gangster impression, which I don’t even know where he got it from.
But his weirdness makes him awesome. I wouldn’t change a thing about him. He’s perfect. He is all heart and is amazingly sweet, without any prompting or bribing. The world would be a better place if more people were weird.

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In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Wronged Objects.”

Dear work desk,

its not you its me. You tell me I never spend time with you. I always give you excuses. the time I do spend with you is either distracted or angry.  Well, the truth is I don’t think we’re right for each other anymore. The idea of us working and creating together was what drew me to you, but somehow we just don’t click.  You want what you want and I just don’t feel the same. We’ve both changed, and I really think it’s time to just admit it’s over.

I think you should be the one to move out.  I mean, the room was mine first.

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