Forget Forgotten (An FMD apology)

When I am wrong, I admit it. I wrote a post aimed at the bow of my very good friend called, Forgotten. This post was intended to remind him of where he came from because he avoids visiting like the plague. I tried using guilt to get him to come around the old neighborhood and visit those who care about him. I didn’t realize he was and is only trying to better himself by avoiding the collective drama that apparently sustains certain “people’s” life force. I have learned in the past few weeks that there are givers and there are users. My friend in question is a giver as am I. He has given and given to several “people” from the old neighborhood and in return has been given grief and drama. I always pictured him sitting in his expensive chair in his beautiful house looking down the summit of his enormous Hebrew beak at most of us. This isn’t the case at all, although it should be. This man has busted his ass for everything he has ever gotten in his life and the majority of “people” in his past are just simply jealous. Jealous of the fact that he wasn’t content with the cards he had been dealt. He wanted more and decided that nothing or no one will stand in his way to get it. The “people” I mention cant stand forward movement. In fact, they hate it. To move forward in life would mean that they have to cut down on drinking and drug abuse. They would feel as if the party is over. That can’t happen (sarcasm). If they actually buckled down and grew up a little then they would actually see themselves for the first time. They have this false sense of worth that is quite pathetic once you yourself have gone through this cycle of performance. So this being said…Fromen, I take it back. You didn’t then nor deserve now to be in the cross hairs. Those of you who want to berate him and question his loyalty can all get in single file line and lick his Yiddish ball sack until he quivers and releases half a pint of kosher throat yogurt into your hating, jealous, unsuccessful rod sleeves. Just a note…If you call me again and complain about him not calling or visiting..The next time I see you I will wrap both hands around your neck and squeeze until my knuckles turn white thus cutting off your air supply until you are either dead or retarded. You know who you are. FYI, You shouldn’t call my bluff on this one.