Stage Four Zero Fucks Given Syndrome

I love becoming Sixty-Three.

I have reached that stage of life whereby I can say what-ever-the-fuck I want to say.

No Consequenes.

No Reprecussions.

No Nada.

(You got some ‘Nada?’—bring it!)

What the hell anyone gonna do to me that has not already been attempted?

I give zero fucks what anyone thinks of me.

This is so….

So…

So…

So Freeing.

I want for nothing.

I desire for nothing.

I need for nothing.

I am happy.

Content.

Saited.

I love who I am.

The rest of you be damned.

And take a one-way ticket to Hell.

And Board The Express Lane.

Put your foot on the gas.

A train possessing  brakes is just not exciting for me.

***********

Added value from a stupid post I posted on Facebook:

Fairly certain, fairly certain, Y’all are wondering what I am ‘into’ today.

“Take your good arm.”

(Or what is left-over of your mind.)

“And just wang it down.”

“Wanging” is good for the Soul. And good for the mind. It is Freedom.

One thought on “Stage Four Zero Fucks Given Syndrome

  1. Oh but dear, you care a great deal what people think of you and would give your right arm to have someone hold you and make everything ok. I could be wrong, haven’t read everything yet.

Leave a Reply