The truth is: I’m fucking untouchable.
I could take an hour and write out all of my near-death experiences in detail.
Or I could summarize it.
Bullets apparently are allergic to me.
Gravity apparently bends around me to prevent any damage from falling and/or car crashes.
Water flows OUT of my lungs instead of into them.
The list goes on and on.
I should be dead.
But I’m not.
This means two things.
1: I’ve been invincible since birth.
2: I have a fucking mission.
I just need to figure it out, before my 9th life ends.
Enough babbling.
I can’t help but believe in karma. This beautiful baby girl is my daughter, her mother is my fiance, and everyone that has wronged me has either turned around and become good people, or are being punished by cosmic forces. Fucking A, Papa Saturday, you’ve got my fucking back.
clarebabs asked: If this is completely out of line or something don't answer it, but I've been going through some shit lately, and I'm literally at my wits end. I've racked my brain so much to try and figure out some kind of answer, and for some reason I feel like you might possibly be that one person who could give me some incite on the situation. Weird as it is for me to be looking to you for advice..but, I've never met anyone who could read a person like a book the way you do.
Hmm? What is it you need insight on?
About me
I could sit here for days telling you bullshit about me, my life, and my past. However, I'll spare you today.This is the refracted mind of Robert Douglas Garnham.
This is Douglas Prophetic
