There was a time, several years ago now, when I vividly remember sitting in my kitchen floor, Kevin Gates saying, “I’ll find you again, love”, and I was hand waxing and crying so hard I couldn’t see the tile I was on top of.
This was in the era of The Marine, the man of zero faults, the only man I’ve known to quite literally always say the right thing, to the point I swear I thought he could fucking read my mind for a while.
At the time of the crybaby dumb ass incident above, he was in the Ukraine evacuating women and children and sending me the equivalent of a photojournalists dream that would put me in a different class of writers. It sits in the cloud, because of the fact that publishing any of it would nearly guarantee a target be affixed to him.
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