where sa-tyres never go flat
where sa-tyres never go flat
As a toddler, I barely cried. I loved breast milk. I took it exclusively until I was three. My favourite colour has always been blue—navy blue. I preferred football to cartoons. I hated cartoons. By 15, I could hold live chickens, start the generator on the first try, and wash my dad’s car all by myself. My uncle said I was already more of a man than many grown-ups. My friends called me “King Kong.” Life was good.
I’m well too, just that I’ve been ruminating over what you said the last time we talked: “I’m on WikiHow reading an article on straight-acting.” I vowed not to reply until I found you some help. To make this happen, I had to examine the trail of ash you’re leaving behind for people to see, and browsing your Facebook profile and your Medium articles on self-discovery, the bells started to ring: “This boy is CLEARLY gay! This boy is clearly GAY!”
