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stalked by glinda the good/ haunted by the faerie prince
sai fon
akmed
why on earth is the summer solstice sullied by also being father's day?

fuck you daddy. phil- just fuck you. maybe your relatively new found relationship with the eunich jesus will buy you salvation- maybe he'll forgive you but i just can't. i treat my fucking cats better than you treated me. you and morgan le fay and your little narcissistic slave dance axed me out, fucked my life up.

two self- absorbed blond bomb shells-clearly i never had a chance.

most people should never breed.

you got to reinvented yourself, you slime ball, because you were allegedly an adult. i was stuck, as a child, looking like you in enemy camp, with no escape. you had to know how hammared these people were- you still don't strike me as stupid- how could you leave me there? it nearly killed me.

apparently, it nearly killed you too. i can understand that, really, i can. however, you became what you so passionately loathed- your own ersatz, not- ever -there father. nothing in your AA inspired, christian influenced, half- assed, clinically detached, impersonally typed letters of quasi- apology (read- "my addiction program and priest told me i had to be contrite so i think i sort of am as long as you can't find me, rip my head off ,and get money from me.") will change the fact that you are , philip , your own hated father.

christ , get some balls, then i could at least think about lending half an ear toward listening to your pathetic loser junkie reasons why. if you can't face me, pussy, you'll never be able to look your aryan Saviour in the eyes. i am your biggest fucking mistake and i have it on good astral plane authority that your time is running out.

father means nothing. father means sperm donor. father means nothing. cats don't recognize paternity- i feel like i should never have been forced to do so after your reprehensible lack of maturity and completely selfish shirking of your responsibilities.

when i think about you it always means i am thinking about my life and the paths it has taken. if i can say nothing else about my time in this seedy weigh station, at least i can say- i didn't turn out like my father.

pay your debts, bitch.

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