Here’s the thing mom. You blew me off when I told you your p******** boyfriend asked me for naked pictures. When I was in an abusive relationship and I asked for help to get out, you told me I “made my bed” and to lie in it. But you’ll hand over $1000 cash to my fatass sister for a plane ticket who, as she always does with the money you give her, blew it all on crap. Don’t whine at me that you’re not going to have anyone to take care of you. Don’t try to guilt me with doublespeak about how you don’t want anyone think you’re a burden. You made it quite clear growing up the martyr you were for having to raise me. It was just so terrible for you having to be my mom. Besides, you think I’m going to listen how I’m doing everything wrong? Nope, had enough of that s***. That’s why I don’t talk to you now. So go live with my fatass sister. I mean, it’ll make it easier for her to bleed you dry. But it will also make it easier for you to play the martyr as well. I’m going to keep living my quiet life by the sea. Which would be too boring for you and you “sky is always falling” mentality. You need someone who will play the game. And I won’t. That’s fatass (never had a job in my life) sister’s job.
