My sister calls, she's out of breath. She rambles, rambles rambles about drones and fish and death. 

She sputters and mutters through laughter and tears.  She tells me every thought she's ever had, every single one of her fears. 

Conspiracies and signals, secret agents and plots. Someone is watching, following, whispering evil thoughts.

They send signals through songs, they watch through apps.  She's scared to leave the house, cause of all this crap.

My poor little sister. She used to be sweet and funny and kind. How do I tell her she's losing her mind.

It's not real sis, just an image in your head.  Nobody is after you, nobody is dead. Now tell me where you are, I'll come help if your close.

Am I sure? How do I know? I am after her, too? This isn't a joke. It has nothing to do with the pipe I just smoked.

Wait. Hold up. Is that what this is?  I'm wasting my time on this fucked up shit?

You're not crazy or sick or fucked up in the head.  Forget my help and I'll forget everything you just said.

Adding "and shit" to the end of a sentence will make anything you write sound gangster.  Some examples:

I was blowing bubbles and shit.

I went to church to pray and shit.

I pay taxes and shit.

My mom loves to bake cookies and shit. (hmmm, this one sounds more like she has a bowel problem)

You get my point and shit.

Write, erase, hesitate, send. One book written, another begins.

Query hell will never end.

Candles lit, fingers crossed. Endless sleep will be lost. One, then two, three days gone. Take your sweet time to respond. Will it be tears of joy or pain. Weeks of sorrow, years of fame.

Am I good or do I suck.  Is it talent or just luck.