trixie_is_no_longer_a_doormat trixie Why are you this burden on me when I am clearly not you? Why have I walked around all day wanting to vomit up my life, my well being to you? For months, since the day your fake nails clicked their way into my mind and you dark eyes made me feel unwelcome, I have resented every part of you. Every breath. Every outfit. Every long, filthy, and infested hair in our bathtub. Every perfume. Every boyfriend that played his music too loud so that it would bleed into my room and into my ears and into my night and my thoughts and my sleep. My life. Controlled and ever taken advantage of by you. You are sick. This has been established. And if you want to write me off as just another bitch who took out her big guns and screwed you, the poor defenseless artist, then you just go ahead and do that because I'll join the club baby of the dozens of your weak perverts and starrey eyed rednecks that you tossed away with you tears and your cigarettes and your hospitality. I hate you. And I know that. And I'm not the only one. You screw around just for the drama. You want to cry. For god's sake, it's your calling card. Lord knows that is the only reason why people say you are worth a shit in this business, because you can cry on cue and you have skinny legs. So fucking what girl. So what. But you are making me feel like I'm a shady Shylock, the money grubbing Jew right? And don't tell me that you and your people don't grub for the green either. You move here like it's your duty to make more money than anyone else. This is not my fault. I've washed my hand of you. This is not me. It's you. It's you, it's you, it's you. And how I'm feeling tonight, it's even more you. This is all just part of your voodoo plan to make me sucumb to your bullshit. You say that it's unfair that I want to win. Tell me this, WHY THE HELL AM I EVEN FIGHTING IF IT'S NOT FOR WINNING? Tell me. And I was so shocked at you. That when it really came down to it, me the valley girl with the soft parents who got dropped on her ass in New York and all but drowned last year turned out to have more balls than you did. Than you. You. You were always the bitch. Why were you the one with the tears? Why am I walking away from this? WHERE WERE YOUR FUCKING BALLS TO TELL ME OFF? And you were right, this is your fault. You lied to me. You lied to me. You lied to me. You lied to Marci. You lied to Doug. You lied. You did. So, if your tiny little pseudo-Asian ghetto fabulous wanna be J.Lo and Madonna take over the world style ass is out on the street don't blame me because I've all but been there for you, more than I had to, way more. I've been totally honest with you and I've been a great friend to boot and I've defended you for other people to slight myself. To slight myself, did you know that? Did you know that it fucking gets around what a flakey slut you are? And yes, you were there for me too when I was sick and we had some good times, but today you were the one who cried and told me to leave. You walked. I didn't. I even came after you, and tell me to my face that you think just anyone would follow some crazy ass like you. Because they wouldn't. Not in New York. They would be out. And that's why you thought you could use me and manipulate me. Because I'm a nice girl who doesn't wear makeup and seems to be a rose colored glasses optomist. You prey on the weak because baby you can't handle the strong. You tackle the easy targets and mountains you climb are just mole hills. That's why you walked today. You are a facade with you hair, clothes, mouth, drinking, and music. You'd never admit that some girl who doesn't listen to DMX and Massive Attack all day whiped your ass. No, a white chick who digs Enya did. Fucking Enya. I'm sorry for you as your friend that you got your self in this mess, but this isn't personal, it's business, and I can't bail you out this time because for once I gotta watch my own ass. And I'm sorry that me not being a pussy is new to you. But you knew all along, from the moment you met me that I could play hardball with the big boys too if you pushed me hard enough and didn't play by the rules. You just thought you could play me and my family like punks and that we would just be glossed over and not realize that you were secretly fucking me up the ass. You thought you could win at all costs, but the last shoe is gonna drop and you caused it. Just like you cause everything. This is you and I can't carry your shit around anymore. I gave you warning and this is what you did with it. You fucked it up. Which is no surprise. And so what. I knew you were full of shit. We had a deal and that deal was carried out in its entirety. After that, there is nothing between us. You made this personal. You fell in love. You fell. And you have fallen and I'm not picking you up. 030818 what's it to you? who go blather from