LynchMob

Being hunted by mobs of bops is a given…when you actually represent…who they pretend to be. My imposter syndrome used to convince me that my belief of feeling targeted…by people who act like I don’t exist…was a figment of my main character fixation. But…these hoes really are on me. And the stress from their constant surveillance causes the kind of pain in my a$$…that could leave me suffering from the same type of cancer my dad was predisposed to. So I’m still on my 5 a week workouts…and my daily meditations. Because there will never be a shortage of groupies…hanging on to the desperation of destroying the peace of mind that I built…on my own. Which is why I accept that their misery loves company. While also understanding that the closest they can get to being in mine…is by setting thirst traps for the kind of attention…that I effortlessly get from them.