sir; i’m not chasing clout, i’m ✨underfunded✨

the “blowhorn”
that was actually
survival mode
instead of
for real like…
starving.

—

oh,
i went public???
i just want attention?

i don’t respect the system?

like yeah dude
that’s what happens
when your husband
nukes the bank account,
ghosts the fucking bills,
and leaves you
with a newborn,
unstable housing,
a dog,
and a stack of invoices

and then
y’all wanna act
confused when i,
a broke single mom,
get loud enough
for someone to hear me
over the overdraft fees

and yeah—
sorry i’m also
funny as hell.
my bad for
having a personality
that didn’t get
murdered by the trauma.

let’s be honest
i saw more shit before age ten
than most grown men
manage before thirty-five.
you think that
doesn’t shape the way i talk?
of course i sound like
a mob wife
who’s seen some shit.
i have.

—

listen:

i had to crowdsource
$500 just to file the case
and another
$500 for ink,
paper,
postage,
and the stupid-ass printer
that actually hates me

….that’s $1,000 just to ✨EXIST✨ in court

(i have like a rolling $42)

and y’all,
not even fight—
just show up
without being tackled
by the clerk
for unpaid fees

i don’t respect the system???

brother.

i sacrificed
my personal
grocery budget
✨for a month✨
to afford…one textbook.

yes.
facts.

here’s the plottwist
nobody expects:
💕 i’m honest.
💕 i’m good.
💕 i’m fucking ethical.
i’m the one
who still pays the bills,
still raises the kid,
still tells the truth
even when
the truth makes
everyone else
fucking twitch.

…

but yeah bro.
we’re on food stamps
which were “lost in the mail”
multiple months in a row
his baby is now on medicaid;
which means??

…

we’re living off goodwill.
we’re living off charity.
we’re living off—
whatever i can
scrape together
while cleaning toilets + in grad school +
a baby
under five
with zero child support…

so
i’m sitting here
negative-negative
like,
cleaning houses professionally
with a toddler
eating goldfish on the floor
behind me
the hustle is not aesthetic
it is fucking
federal-poverty-line.

my guy,
if i didn’t laugh
i’d be screaming,
and if i didn’t curse
i’d be fucking crying.

and then
people act like
i “went public” for drama???
nah.
sorry, babe,
the drama is unpaid filing fees
the drama is printer ink
the drama is me at the UPS counter
praying my card doesn’t
literally decline
in front of a line of strangers
who definitely think
i’m running a pyramid scheme

i didn’t blowhorn
bro.
i had to—
i crowdsourced survival
because silence
doesn’t cover court costs
and whispering
doesn’t buy external hard drives.

you didn’t leave me choices
you left me bills.

and listen,
my only option was—
“you’re broke, bitch, get fucked or go ask the internet.”

…

if my tone
and my public survival
bothers anyone,
that’s a them problem—
because
the facts are still the facts,
and they hit harder
than any f-bomb i’ve ever dropped.

…

short answer
with correct grammar:

homie.
i went public
because i literally
could not afford
the mandatory filing
and printing costs
without community support.
i disclosed only
my own information,
claims already in the file,
redacted everything sensitive,
and acted out of financial necessity—
not attention-seeking.

and yes i curse.
but you would be
a little sassy too—
if it happened to you.

public assistance made the case possible.