If Only It Hurt To Be An Asshole.

So…I am plagued right now by several people in my life who seem to think that I am an idiot. I may not always say things in the moment, when someone is attempting to play me like a slot machine, I may not always even realize it at that point in time, but I will realize it. Trust that much. I can’t stand it when people are unable to own their own bullshit in life; much less when said people insist on trying to shift any blame or responsibility over such bullshit onto others when they get called on it.

I have my own bullshit and my own problems. I have my own issues to work on without other people constantly trying to force feed me the workload of their bullshit as well. People just don’t seem to comprehend how fucking stupid they look when they do this, as if I can’t do the math and see what they are doing, or trying to do. Do other people not see how low that takes them by behaving like a 2 year old? Do other people actually think that these pathetic and constant attempts at deflecting the TRUTH will somehow carry them through life? Without losing everyone who might have really cared about them?

It would just be really nice if other people could own their shit, even once in a while. It’s really old being mostly surrounded by people who always want to shift blame and try to make me accountable for shit that has NOTHING to do with me. If only it hurt to be an asshole, maybe people would find a way to check themselves.

Staggering Cruelty.

Yesterday, I was called “so cruel” as to be “staggering to the mind” of the person who chose to voice such a mean-spirited thing to me right now. I was called cruel because I carved out the next few days completely for my mom; so that I will not have to worry about juggling or racing around to fulfill commitments I’ve made to anybody besides my mom. Upon being called cruel in this context yesterday, I realized something quite clearly:

If being with my mother as she lives out the end of her life equates to my own cruelty towards a single person other than her, so fucking be it. I have dread this circumstance for my entire existence, and it has finally come to meet me, to take her away forever. I may be a self-absorbed bitch for ignoring any and all of my other connections to other human beings at present, but that’s the way my crumbly cookie has fallen apart

I am 110% pre-occupied with my mom’s situation, and if that is abnormal – – – shoot me; and then, go fuck yourself real good.

You’re A Worm.

I wonder if you realize how disgusting you are for what you are doing; no need for me to go into detail…you’re fucking gross, dude.

Two things I have learned in recent history that 110% do it in terms of TOTALLY TURNING ME THE FUCK OFF:

  • Being talked to like I am an idiot.
  • Trying to be taken home by a guy (that I used to fuck, a chunk of time ago – like years) who is now sporting a 22 year old girlfriend.

Like I would EVER sleep with you again after knowing this condemning fact about you, dude?… get real. That’s like, my daughter’s age, you sick fuck…you are supposed to be a grown ass man, and I am deeply disappointed to know that you went astray down the road bordering pedophilia, it’s sordid.

Frækhed.

You wanna sit there bathed in such audacity,

you wanna slap my face and kick out my teeth,

you wear some shitty robe and sit in judgement of me,

you carry a badge and a gun but you’re still a bully,

you stare down your nose like you hold some superiority,

you live on the side of the tracks opposite from me,

you wanna come up on me any way you can conceive,

you wanna tell lies and spread rumors around viciously,

you need to feel good about yourself to fall asleep,

you’ll sell-out someone else if it gets you what you need,

you walk around like you think your dirty shit can’t stink,

you weigh 80 pounds with a mouth twice as big as me,

you believe in things that seem to lead to being human sheep,

you flock together with blinders on, unwilling to truly think,

you don’t know the meaning of getting back up on your feet,

you don’t know the feeling of swallowing another defeat,

you wanna sit there smiling stupidly,

you wanna laugh at my misery,

you wanna push me until red’s all I see,

you wanna make a statistic of me.

 

A Favor.

On the internet, people all become falsified,

strangers fall in love and cyber-fuck on Skype,

then it fizzles out and profile access is denied,

and people go crazy and lose their damned minds;

 

some of you talk shit, some will never get past ignorance,

you don’t get that we are, each indeed, quite different,

but if we all got in line and lived behind the same fence,

it wouldn’t be long before everyone was sick and tired of it;

 

the world will keep spinning no matter who thinks,

the sun will still shine on the world when it stinks,

it’s a matter of time until the final mind shrinks,

and the whole of humanity is suddenly extinct;

 

nobody seems able to even try to comprehend,

that when we lose the essence of being human,

we become barbaric, and act foolish to the end,

the end is will be ugly if we don’t all understand;

 

if you’re built to be venomous and mean, genetically,

perhaps you shouldn’t use modern media socially,

because every time you choose to behave like a beast,

someone else gets bruised and you carry on with ease;

 

what about the good folks who are simply trying to “be”?

harassed by your nonsense and pure douchebaggery,

until finally all that’s left on the internet is greed,

do us both a favor and refrain from reading me.

 

 

Kidding.

Beautiful, gorgeous, happy glow…
Your Sweetest Nothing’s
put into syllables, for show.
Fiery, wanting…
glued to your face
your mouth’s curves
a daunting place…
I’ve been before
But tell me how – I bow down
into the splinters and cinders
that litter the floors
like your long line of whores
I see them all,
I choose to ignore…
You never answer questions
your many Life Lessons
have taught you little of
the snap inside my rubber glove
We are meant to Own our possessions.
Are we not?
You have seen quite a lot
Of my flesh,
Camera flash;
digitalized dash
in red LED text;
what now?
Onto the next…
Right?
Or am I wrong?
Am I dumb
To play along?
See here’s the thing:
I see the strings
Attached to each one
Of your crispy clean
cummerbunds…
I see the line of
Space and time,
wrapped inside
Of that tattoo –
You were too pure
to follow through…
Ouch!
this hurts miserably;
Yes you , yes me.
Look away if you must
Please?
Your face is too much
to see, anyway.
Ouch!
Just go on about your
fashionable way.
You were fine before
I came along
In my string bikini thong
to knock upon your door;
You’ll be fine now,
and I guess…
so will I, somehow –
Just forget it all,
my cries and calls,
forget me
don’t see me…
don’t see me fall.
You won’t believe me,
Anyway…
Your ears don’t hear
a word I say.
Go fucking play
As you have,
each and every day
as it’s passed.
What was that?
What did you say?
“Score?…Because of…?”
And you’re talking about
How I showed
my bare ass to you –
FUCK YOU.
For that,
I counter you:
Mr. Fashionably True,
I hope this finds you well;
I hope it reaches you;
And hits you
makes you hurt
as you’re looking up my skirt…
What’s the score again?
Mr. Hockey Man –
dead red battery
flashing in your corner screen,
you don’t know the bones
that construct Lil’ Ol’ Me,
nothing taken seriously…
so fuck yourself,
good and hard –
multiplied by twelve.
I am a star,
And I will shine in Hell –
Quit kidding yourself.