Principles of abuse and the internal failures of racists
Updated: May 8
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See AllMy very first memory, the decayed brick work upon which I balance the rest of my days, is of tussling with my caramel and chocolate colored pit-bull named Bella, in a dusty, spartan backyard in cookie
I remember hiding under my mothers vanity. So small I could crouch down in the corner, against the wall, behind her trash can, so small I could be safe. From my father. I watched his bare feet, as he
Stories to tell our orphans What story do you want tonight kids? ohhhh, in unison, the "Buy Now" button! ok kids, here it goes, a long time ago, before the collapse you could get anything you could
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