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.

Mechanisms.

pes·si·mism/ˈpesəˌmizəm/noun:
a tendency to see the worst aspect of things or believe that the worst will happen; a lack of hope or confidence in the future.

(philosophy)
a belief that this world is as bad as it could be or that evil will ultimately prevail over good.


 

“Maybe if you started being more optimistic…”

If I had been given a nickel for every time someone uttered such mindless words to me, I’d undoubtedly be a very wealthy woman by now; as pessimism is not an element of my persona that has come on recently in life – it is part of who I am and how I operate. As you may have noticed, the above definitions attached to the word ‘pessimism’ are different based on the context the word is used in. There are people (like Friedrich Nietzsche or Arthur Schopenhauer) who are one type of pessimist: like political and/or economic analysts who only apply the term to a social or cultural scenario, on a much more global scale that encompasses the world in its entirety. There are also people who only apply a pessimistic outlook to their own personal experiences in life, in an individualized scenario of day to day life. This type of pessimism is a psychological coping mechanism subconsciously adapted to manage the disappointments and failures in Life. Additionally, there are those people like me, who are dual pessimists that both definitions completely apply to.

I get so fucking sick and tired of people saying to me things like:

“Why don’t you just look at life with more joy and happiness?” or

“You get back whatever you sent out into the Universe, you know?” or

“You’re never gonna feel good if you’re so busy feeling bad.”

NEWS FLASH!!!

To the people who survive under such perceptions as those that entertain the idea of pessimism as a consciously made lifestyle choice:
YOU’RE AN IDIOT. WAKE THE FUCK UP OR SHUT THE FUCK UP.
The generalization of a fucked up society and the accepted norms within its strict confines are a huge problem with this truth; as the blindly happy people of the world are all too often comfortable in labeling people like me as being “negative” or “down”. And perhaps I am, in comparison to some women my age that I know; but the purposes behind my own pessimistic attributes can be directly traced to certain repetitive things (a pattern of negative affectations and/or experience). To go a little further down, the ongoing execution of such pessimism is now hard-wired into my very personality and outlook.
Put plainly: truly pessimistic people did NOT wake up the day after losing a beauty pageant and decide to become a pessimist because of a minor bruise to the ego.
In the psychological context of a pessimist’s profile, the perpetuation of negative expectations becomes a form of self-preservation; and it also provides ongoing management of deep emotional disappointments and failures in the mind’s eye. Freud got it; and tried to explain best he could. Similar to the Pavlov’s Dog experiment, a certain physical response is the natural reaction to specifically targeted anticipation.
During my teenage years, I was all over the map and intermingled with fuck-tons of people in all kinds of various circumstances, eventually forming the general opinion that I continue to harbor about social interaction. I went to one too many movies or concerts that were ruined by the total strangers in close quarters with my person, and never having had even known they had. I live in a densely populated area where “rush hour” never ends, and if you want to get to your destination – you better be ready to force your way in. To sum it up, I have been shown time and again over my lifespan so far, how the easy majority of the people in the world are just inconsiderate fucks who don’t have a clue about anything beneath the surface areas in Life. As an empath, I am naturally a thoughtful individual; without effort or work at being so. This causes my stupid brain to expect such considerations as well in return – a very dumb thing to do. I guess the point I’d really like to make here is that when people say things such as those I have emphasized above to me, I wonder if they are purposely trying paint themselves as shallow and dense for whatever reason; or if they have cause to intentionally offer me offense. I do not like being in constant expectation of the bad things; I wish I could wake up every morning with a smile and feel like the possibilities in Life were everywhere around me, trust me.
But my own reality is not such; and never could or will be. It is statements like this that unfailingly prompt the shiny happy ‘judges’ around me to start in with the “If I were you…” bullshit.
To which, I have this to say every time:

“If you were me, then I’d be you…and I would use your body to kick the shit out of you for saying such ignorant things.”

If you are shiny and/or happy, next time you feel like vocalizing your peanut-brain opinions on things that you don’t know a fucking thing about, why not try just shutting the fuck up, instead?

Clutch of STFU.

Admittedly
I never found
The time to read
Hitchcock’s ‘BIRDS’
and now
I’m wondering
Was the story-line
About being driven
Bat-shit crazy?
Or bird-shit crazy
More accurately
Because that’s the kind
That pertains to me
And the state of mind
That I find lately
The chirping
The clucking
The fucking audacity
I’ve had enough
Of the finch clutch
Known as the Society.

clutch of stfu2

Countdown to Nothing.

Everyone’s asking

What I plan to do

To ring in the bring

Of another year, new

Can’t seem to communicate

Clearly to you

Can’t seem to articulate

The words I mean to

The parades on the street

Leave me wanting to puke

the commercials on TV  

And the anchors on the News

Another year gone

Another comes right on queue

Three hundred sixty five

And I’ve got nothing to show to you

Just another day and night

The New Year offers nothing new

Just another song and dance

For a crowd that blows darts at you.

Cyclical.

Throughout so much of the apparent bullshit that goes on with each new sunrise of my cursed life, I’d like to share the fact that there are NOTHING but vastly reaching tentacles of even more bullshit that belong to the variants attached to that same fucking existence.
For even when things are on the “upswing” for me (which never consists of anything more than a few not-so-bad things happening), my heart is ever struggling to simply remain above the ring of that proverbial drain; I am not throwing a pity party – anyone who really knows me at all will have no choice but to agree with my longtime proclamation of purely bad karma…it IS NOT “perception” or a matter of any “law of attraction”; it is TRUTH.
1) When my health gets to a point in which I have any room to move freely, my car breaks down with some fucking random, yet very expensive issue, and I get stuck until I become ill again;
2) When I become ill – nothing else matters besides getting better and it is always a fight that exhausts me to the point of near-submission;
3) By the time I “feel better”, I am so tired of fighting to feel better that I am at my own wit’s end with everything;
4) When I finally get my car repaired (a solution that attaches itself directly to MONEY), I run out of money and am again stuck until I get more income;
5) When I am sickly, it becomes all-too-often impossible to work for income;
6) When I get some income, it is already spent because I have been stagnant at home and have had to borrow from someone;
7) When I finally get back to feeling like I can possibly conquer even the simplest of steps in this horribly vicious cycle – my car breaks down again.

Granted, I am lucky to have people who help me, and my step dad loaned me his “spare” car; my own car is very close to being “repaired” once more (with the exception of brakes, which I was set out to pick up this morning in order for my nephew to change them today) – and of course there is no way in Hell that the Gods would allow things to go so smoothly for me, in my own fucking hell-hole life…my step dad’s spare won’t start this morning.

“Don’t freak out, I’ll pick you up and take you to the auto store to get your brakes…”

And nobody gets it…I don’t want a fucking ride to the fucking auto store to get the fucking brakes that I don’t even have the finances to buy right now!!! I don’t want anything from anyone who finds it funny when I can’t start the loaner car I’m forced to borrow because my own bread and butter has failed me once again!!! I am sick and fucking tired of the heavy weight I am dragging around by my ankle over the dread and anxiety of vehicular failure – and I cannot deal with AGAIN it today (with the car that I’m using while I have no car)!!!
I just want a single, fucking break!!! It never comes….NEVER.
The cycle of my existence is what is going to kill me eventually, not anything or anyone else. It will be the long-lived and suffered anxiousness and worry and dread that will finally stop my blackened heart. And to be honest, I can’t wait.