I bought tobacco again.
My dog still loves me.
I didn’t pay the rent.
My dog still loves me.
I am ashamed of myself.
My dog still loves me.
I feel bipolar. On top of the world and then at the bottom of the sea.
My dog don’t care. My dog still loves me.
I don’t know proper English.
I still write and my dog still loves me.
I have this inner fight, mitote in my head. (as I was looking for a definition of mitote for you, I found this gorgeous photography blog).
My dog still loves me.
I wish I would love myself the way my dog loves me.
Woof.
Anita
With Love,
