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🚨🚨 BRITNEY POSTS REVENGE POEM; She's ready to ****** and be a stinging B‼️


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Why would this be a song? It's the same fonts, style and everything from the book. Its probably a poem from the book. Maybe her book is not the same as every other memoir. Maybe it's full of poems. You set up yourselves to disappointment. I don't get it. 

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7 hours ago, waynebradybyday said:

I asked ChatGPT to flesh out and rearrange the text while still keeping the essence. Pretty dope!

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"Caught mid-act, did the little thieves manage to trick you, serving distractions like skittles? No walk in the park, they say, echoing my words, their actions causing pain. Jesus, why did they take my feet? In motion, I was most alive. Now I feel demoralized, stripped bare, with only my face to emphasize, they were after my mind.

All they wanted was to see my face, each at their own pace, while I yearned for my car, to escape from this place. Not once did I shed a tear, even when I worked ten hours a day. I was a slave for four months, with no days off and no room for play. I lived without a door, with prying eyes watching my every move, even as I showered.

Yet amidst this bleakness, I found solace in the vibrant hues of the flowers I received each week from a local grocery store. A reminder of my youthful spirit, maybe hinting at more. But is this even legal? I wondered, feeling like a punchline in some cruel joke.

My family, though aware, felt powerless, their spirits sinking lower with each passing day. 'Behave, sit down, we are here to save you,' they said. But what was I being saved from? As I teetered on the edge of reason, I felt the raw pulse of life. Insanity has a way of revealing the most authentic selves, as most hearts break and most eyes shed tears. I should have died, I won't deny that. But I survived - a surprising triumph of my spirit.

Looking down at my feet, I felt the urge to run. I experienced an out-of-body sensation, a desperate attempt to escape the pain. It felt like an elevation, touching the ceiling, not a haunting but a spiritual ascension. Amidst the agony, I looked up and saw God. He knew, and so did I. 

'What is normal?' I questioned, the broken shards of my face reflected in my right hand. If I could turn back time, I'd reclaim my lost power. I'd strike back, reminding them of my roots. Would their smiles be as easy then?

I've always been too kind, too generous. But would I hesitate to kill to protect myself? No. Would their smiles still grace their faces if they knew? I doubt it. I've learned my lessons. Humility is my new armor. I'm the bumblebee, with a sting ready for those who cross my path.

Rising higher, the ring of my lighter is lit. I'm prepared to fight, equipped only with my spit. It may seem insignificant, but sometimes, the smallest things hold the most power. So I ask you, would you rather spit or swallow, become hollow or follow the path of righteousness?" 

I hope this does justice to the essence and the intensity of the original text.

It really does justice to the intensity of the poem.

Just a few things that I see differently: Her family did not feel powerless, they felt she deserved it and therefore did not free her on purpose.  And minor change: The therapists did not want to see her face (thoughts) at their pace. It's Britney who wanted things to go at her pace. Britney took a stand: I think she is referring to the dance move she did not want to do in 2018. I think it was much more than a dance move, it was her attempt to change her situation. The TCon's revenge was this facility. 

I wonder whether Sam sent her flowers every week.

She probably wrote this poem when she posted about Project Rose, and she must have hidden it from Jodi's crew. 

 

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18 minutes ago, Emil87 said:

Does anyone have any idea what the second line (they serve like skittles) could be in reference to? First thing that came In my mind was this..spacer.png

I think she meant skittles like bowling pins il_300x300.4848799408_7932.jpg

 

Like how thieves operate in groups, but with single strike ("in the middle") you can get them all.

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