My mother believes she's going off her head.
She does not remember a lot of the things she does.
She does not remember the way she acts, dresses and behaves sometimes.
She truly believed people were telling her lies.
So I took it upon myself to take pictures.
It was disturbing to watch my mother dress and pleasure herself.
But it was the only way I could show our what she was doing.
Even with these photographs, I've evidence she still does not believe she is doing it.
She tells me she's got witnesses who had testified where she was today.
She tells me she was not at her when that was not her I was Photographic.
I asked you who do you believe, me or my mother.
If only the poor boy knew the truth.
Let me introduce myself.
My name is Francis. I am a shape you.
Currently, I am messing around driving some rich bulkhead insane.
He believes his mother has a split personality.
He believes he doesn't know what she's doing.
If only he knew it was not her he was photographing today.
If only he knew it was a preferred old man who gets his kicks by who turning himself into women and fucking up their lives.
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