deceptive trails

this is stupid. why am i doing this. why am i continuing on. i can't stand this pain, this life, this stupid body of mine, i hate my life, i hate myself for what i did to her. i am disturbed by my skin. i hate my head. it's come to feel like a concrete prison. i'm not happy. i hate this world. it's not ready for me yet. i'm in so much pain. my hands just itched like crazy, so i scratched them so much, they're now raw. my knees and ankles won't even hold me up anymore. i do nothing but hurt and shake and cry. some may find this repulsive, but i am repulsive, so deal with it, but i'm never going to find another woman who loves everything about me, even the smell of my farts. go ahead, laff, but she literally did. and i'm sick of pulling shyt out of my eyes, and not being able to wipe it on my wife's naked leg, and see her smile. she taught me unconditional love, when the rest of this town raped their hatred into me. violated my dreams. destroyed my peace. why am i still here. why am i still hurting. this is stupid. why do i keep believing in this juvenile playground. the things i'm interested in: nudity, pot, love, touch, peace, logic, evolution, utopia, comedy, enlightenment, elegance. what others are interested in: lunacy, videogames, popular crap, blame, hatred, seclusion, separation, exclusion, degradation, competition, fear, violence, destruction. and why am i still here again? if this world is not ready for utopia yet, why am i still here. i should come back later, shouldn't i. makes sense to me. this life was trashed, and now my head feels like a concrete prison. extremely uncomfortable and disturbing. physical reality is too physical to me, and is not real. i feel every hair on my head, i feel my skin, my skull, way too much, like it's too hard, too solid. i used to be able to think outside my head, but my caring loving family made damn sure to destroy that, and turn me into a violent little boy who beat my wife away from me when i didn't want to. this chaos is exactly why i shouldn't be here. i was meant for more than this. you can blame me for wasting my life away, but if we all stopped blaming and accepted responsibility, and were brave enuph to make a daring choice, we'd realize we wasted our time blaming eachother. i wasted my life trying to motivate my stupid lazy worthless mother to get off her ass and live her life. she's now four hundred pounds with a tracheotomy. my whole family, as well as my ex, they're abusive projecting oblivious idiots in denial. i had to go thru years of forced mental help, just to have them destroy me. in the end, it was the rest of them who should have had to do that. i was always right, but never heard. i will stick around just long enuph to see if a doctor or lawyer or publisher will help me get my story told, and get back what's rightfully mine. my life. and have these irresponsible, immature, juvenile idiots held accountable, not that it would matter. if it's only going to make me feel better, and not solve any real problems, what's the point. vengeance is just as dumb as blame. there's no happy ending to this horrible story. why take a real life story this ugly and dead, and try to make anything out of it. i'd be beating a dead horse. at least it's better than being ashamed of beating my wife. you couldn't suck sympathy out of my family with a hooker and a hoover vacuum. let alone anyone else in this backward ghost town. so why keep going. why. figure this: i don't bathe, i hate money, and i have herpes. any women out there find that attractive? there are six billion people online, i've got three blogs, two da pages, fetlife, twitter, and i couldn't be more invisible. i've joked before, i'm so dark, you have to be blind to see me. it's no joke. i've said in a poem, i'm the world's greatest unknown. i used to like that. i can't even find a friend who can use punctuation correctly, my chances of finding another girl who not only deals with, but loves all my issues? i'd have a better chance of shooting myself on a dating show. just for george carlin style ratings. he said life is worth losing. ernest hemingway said 'the world is a fine place, and worth fighting for'. morgan freeman only agreed with the second part. i say, stop 'fighting' for crap when you don't even know what you want as a collective consciousness responsibly sharing a planet, stop 'fighting' for everything, instead, start living for something. dreamers have something to live for. idiots have something to die for. there is a difference. take greater care in the terms we use to define our coexistence, and stop trusting the wrong people while they distract us and mislead us thru the wrong choices. 'ooh, do i buy the iphone or the itard with lady gagme accessory kit'. which lie do i want to buy today. do i want to buy the tabloid with aliens on the cover, or the tabloid with demons on the cover. or the zombie shooting videogame that everyone else on this earth plays. or do i strip off my fears and join the logic train and say yes to now. such a hard decision. i'll procrastinate pondering that. and that's the family i come from. the town i live in. the world i stare at with a painful look of befuddlement. like i've got a nuclear fart waiting to turn me into a suicide bummer. get it? i'm a joke that no one laffs at. a rockstar in an empty bar. alien far from home with no car. and now i'm repulsively alone. uncomfortable, in pain, insane, and hopeless. a man destroyed. i saw you turn your heads and lock your doors. living in fear and seclusion. ipods and zombie games for a zombie generation that's too lazy to change the world. which is why we need iron man to do it. i was more of a hero to my wife than any fictional character. and now i'm nonexistent. invisible. i'm so dark, you have to be blind to see me. acquired taste, or acquired sight? i have taste, i have sight, but i don't belong here. i'm made to feel that way every day. sympathy is always minimal to me, but the abuse, they go above and beyond. if you put half the effort into building something that you do destroying everything, we'd have utopia now. i'm sick of waiting for now to be put off till later. i'm sick of digging for a meaningful response. a unanimous 'yes!'. enthusiasm. not apathy. we ignore our dreamers, cause the heroes in the movies are paid more and look hotter. and we don't have to worry about upheaval of our comfortable fears and inhibitions. let's just blame this guy for trying to change us. and roleplay some fictional meaning into our lives via remote control. so we know tmrw will be the same as today. i take comfort in that. fitter, happier, more productive. in denial that i'm completely insane, which is okay, cause i'm completely insane. so i conclude that i do not belong here. neither did john lennon, neither did bill hicks, we're just fine spiraling into darkness and confusion on our own, and we'll blame you for the whole thing and send you packin' anyway. oh, but you can't take yourself out, cause we'll feel lonely, so we'll guilt you into staying miserably until we decide it's your time. and we'll ignore you till you get all old and wrinkly and negative like your grandmother. i'd honestly rather leave you all to figure it out for yourselves. and when you fail, and realize there was some dead dude back there you should have listened to, i'm going to be sitting on arcturus watching you thru a telescope, and i'll laff when i see the puff of smoke. you make it so hard to live in this world, but so hard to die without a guilt trip. i used to know some elementary students who would laff at us. i'll give you a hint. one of those students grew up to be albert einstein. one of my heroes. most of my heroes are either dead or fictional. that's pretty sad. all i ever wanted was to be touched. the day my wife left, i just wanted to be touched. we argued, she left. my soulmate couldn't take the trauma anymore. she saw me go from superhero to little boy, and she couldn't handle that. i don't blame her. no other woman would love me that much. they did a study and found out that people are attracted to their ideal scents. watch it on naked news if you're curious. it's called pheromone dating. naked news also says women won't date men without jobs. which tells me, a: women are shallow and spoiled, and b: perry didn't care about jobs and money. yeah, soulmates! the only two people in the world like that. fucking unicorns. we didn't just love eachother unconditionally. we effortlessly redefined that. we were disgustingly googlesnorts over eachother. but people wanted us apart, and they won. that's no world i want to be a part of. i'm ashamed to associate with humans, so i speak alien, and i think i'll just be proud of being misunderstood until my wrist drains. how's that for a suicide note. did i impress hunter s thompson. this world says suicide is selfish. i say this world is selfish, and it leads to too many suicides. blame us for killing ourselves, but that's on you. take responsibility, and don't let one more dreamer die. we share this world. act like it. you might lose me soon, but learn your lesson, and listen to the next one. we aren't many left.