twosday

woke up this morning...

people always talk about gratitude lists, while in denial that they're assuming i don't do them, or that i don't appreciate shit. how would they know a fucking thing about me unless they had the balls to read anything i've ever fucking written?

my mother taught me... it's better to keep your mouth shut and let people think you're stupid, rather than open it and prove it.

woke up this morning, twenty bucks on my head, couple starfucks cards by my feet, and a breakfasty croisanwich (i don't know how the fuck they spell that, but i swear it's different every time) fuckin' thing that was actually pretty nasty. what the fuck are you people eating? the eggs were half cooked, and coated in a thick layer of grease, bought from a 'healthy pastry shop'... probly cost ten bucks. and would you people get the fuck away from anything that starts with 'croi', please. if they can't pronounce it, you shouldn't be eating it. but anyway. thanks for the twenty bucks and the starfucks super duper free asterisk removal magic wand videogame coin credit things that allow me to sit and be left the fuck alone without simultaneously affording coffee i don't drink when i'm obviously not working to afford it... sorry. i can see how people constantly misunderstand what the fuck i'm saying. but it makes sense to me because i'm on the other side of society from you. i can be sitting right next to you, and still be in a completely different world from you. you've got a job, a wallet, a credit card, an income, money to spend on food today... if you can't comprehend that there's a whole other side to that perspective, then no wonder you're not seeing me or understanding me. just try living one day of your life without a dollar on you. and no tits to make a dollar.

anyway. yes, i am grateful for the twenty bucks and the starfucks monopoly skip jail passes. that's part of my point. i'm trying to be grateful. the other part of my point, however... is women.

i'm sitting there smoking. this crazy old lady walks by. asks me for a cigarette, so i give her one. asks if she can lay down in the doorway next to mine. repeatedly. i offer several times for her to sit next to me, as my doorway is empty (meaning no one in the business behind me). every fucking question i ask her, all she can fucking say is 'no, no, no'. she finally shuts up and lays down in the doorway next to me for about ten minutes, before the guy opens the door and tells her to get up. so she comes back to my doorway, and i offer again for her to sit down, 'no, no, no'. kept interrupting me, talking over me, wouldn't shut up about the fucking door, started asking what kind of cigarette it was, and i finally snapped and bitched at her, saying 'why can't any woman ever fucking say yes to me, why do every godfucking one of you have to say no to me, i've been asking every day for three years now, all you ever fucking say is no'. she walked away. and my heart plummeted back into the concrete where it feels less rejected.

they flutter around me like hummingbirds.
too skittish to stay, too annoying to go away.
teasing me, offering to pull the knife out of my heart,
but tickling it, and shoving it further in.

then, i come to support groups. i talk to the wonderful young lady i see in the sex addicts group. i don't even remember her name, and at this point, that's a good thing. i'm setting up my laptop in the small room, and before i could get everything turned on... i couldn't help but overhear her talking to her caseworker...

i can't even repeat this shit. it's so goddamned repulsive and offensive to me, and no one ever understands how traumatic this shit is for me. hearing this shit out of so many women's mouths. you'll never understand what the fuck this does to me. or any other man, i would think. (though i claim no allegiance to that side of the room).

she's talking to her caseworker... and i know i shouldn't be repeating this, but i have to, this is pain in my heart, it's relevant to me. sue me, kill me, whatever you have to do, this is my freedom of speech right here. you can't just keep silencing someone who's trying to make a point.

she's talking to her caseworker about some guy she's been talking to.

i'm sorry, i can repeat very little of this, it just won't come off my tongue. (or fingers).

at one point, her caseworker said 'well, at least he's not shooting heroin'.

goddamnit.

seriously?

my heart won't go any further into this shit. come on, goddamnit. fuckin' pussy.

she said something about him talking pills...

does someone actually have to say this as publicly and offensively as possible to wake you cowards up, or what...

GET THE FUCK OFF THE FUCKING DRUGS AND GROW THE FUCK UP!!!

PULL UP YOUR FUCKING PANTS!!! STOP CALLING ME BRO!!! READ SOMETHING!!!

sorry, that was about to give me a heart attack, it had to come out. i'm really trying to be as polite and wordless as possible right now.

i wish we could just stop this shit for one day. women, stop fucking any other douchebag, till you can at least consider me.

i texted mama sue. asking, do women even know how to say yes to anything anymore? besides money? do you cold hearted cowards have no clue what this does to me? how much it hurts?

i watched doug stanhope with the old guy last night. laughed our asses off. he started talking about how women have to retain some level of shame for their side of the sex, because that pussy has to be held like a carrot on a string to keep the poor stupid sap producing shit and building shit, otherwise nothing would get built. he's fuckin' right. so sadly right. disgustingly right.

but i'll never even find another female who's seen that fuckin' video. those are my chances.

i sit there alone. alone. alone.

tortured by my own heart.

women want confidence from men BEFORE attraction... no, that's supposed to happen after.

you walk into our lives. you inspire us. you make us smile. thus we develop confidence.

if it's the other way around, then you ladies aren't doing your job, but rather just demanding a free ride through life.

your sole job while you're alive on this planet...
and i know you're not aware of this, which is why i'm telling you, just to have you deny it...
your sole job, your only duty while you're alive on this earth... is to say yes.

you've forgotten that you have the ability to choose, to say yes to the right guys, thus the right things get built.

the fact that we're all prisoner to a poverty producing pyramid scheme at this moment, tells me you women have been fucking the wrong guys for too long now, so there simply is no cluing you in.

the guys with talent. the guys with hope. the guys with good shit in their hearts.

not the guys out for money, who just mindlessly squash the little guy when he gets in the way.

you fucking whores.

ladies that walk past me, i keep wanting to ask them, how ugly am i?

but they all lie to me. 'you're not ugly'. yeah, bullshit, then why am i still single?

i see them. they walk past me with this look on their face, like 'he's not gettin' me'.

you'd never sacrifice a paycheck for an evening with me. then i know what you want in life, and i think it's despicable. disgusting. and i think you should be ashamed of yourselves for dangling off that paycheck fishing line. you fucking whores.

anyway... back to the story. i couldn't help but overhearing her talking to her caseworker about this douchebag, and each fucking thing they say, and laugh about, just drills into my head like an unwanted rape cock of disturbing images and rejecting pain, just forcing its way into my ear, plowing through my heart, straight into the pit of my stomach, and just turning black and toxic.

i keep trying desperately to get my headphones on, and whispering to myself, so i hear less of what's being said, i finally get my headphones on, and shut them out.

but the day's damage is done.

she'll never think of me.

i have this wallpaper i sometimes put on my computer. it's a shame it's only nineteen twenty by ten eighty, cause it pisses me off when the picture isn't big enough and clear enough, when people don't put enough effort into the pictures they take, and they think 'nineteen twenty by ten eight is good enough'. that's why i want to design my own computer, but that's another rant...

the wallpaper is a blurry shot from grass upward, toward a sunset, with a sun ring in the image, glare, over the top of a building, like a barn or something, and blurred into the picture just on top of the building, are the words 'she will never love you'.

i ache for physical contact daily.
i yearn to be touched.

you are not the same.

because if you were...

love would make the world go round, so the world would be going round.

is there something about that you still don't understand?

and you'll never even think of me.
you'll never consider me.

and the fact that i had to go through three years of homeless traveling, painfully single...

it didn't have to be this way. this could have been fun.

it will always reside as a scar on my heart, a reminder of what you women really want.

you don't give a fuck about the poor dude with talent.

you just want the luxurious chair under your ass, every day of your worthless life.

how do you excuse yourselves?

i proudly promote myself as 'not in it for the money'.

that's not as shiny to you as your beloved products. thus i'm just not attractive to you.

stop lying to me and telling me i'm not ugly.
and society needs to stop trying to convince me that i hate myself.

i love myself. it's you i hate. because you refuse to look at me. you make me feel repugnant. they way you women dress, the men you walk with, and the way you look at me, makes me want to die. i really want you women to know that. to understand that. that's nothing to be proud of. you should be ashamed. i would be, but then again, i'm more human than you are, my heart is warmer.

anyway. i finally get the headphones on. basically, what i had overheard, was that...

well...

i'll just put how it translated to me, how about that? is that okay with the authorities?

does that please the court?

she's never going to look at me.

and you women misunderstand me more than cats do. you know, deep down, what the fuck i'm talking about. you know, full well, what the fuck i'm really saying. what i'm really asking. i shouldn't have to explain myself. what the fuck do you think the world functions on? what the fuck do you think the fuel that propels creation really is? in case you're in a tarpit of dark black denial, i'll go ahead and illuminate you...

as politely as possible...

it's that little home between your legs, ladies. that little cubby hole where guys like us can put stuff, like our dignity.

if you're in denial of that...

then perhaps you can see why my heart hurts this much. why i ache and yearn for touch.

i'd bet a billion dollars that you'll never understand. you'll just keep preaching your side of the story, without considering mine. and of course that's fair, you're women. we're men, we aren't going to argue with you, we've learned from that. at least i have, like i said, i don't claim any affinity or allegiance to either side of this pathetic fucking room. i've got my eye on the door.

and the more you women ignore me...
the more you ladies tease and torture me...
the longer i go without physical contact...

the closer i get to that door.

keep misunderstanding my metaphors, i know how you women think. i'm not as stupid as i look, which is exactly why i'm alone. it's exactly why you fear me.

i'll repeat that, incase you missed it...

the reason i'm still alone, is because you ladies fear me.
the reason you fear me, is because i'm not as stupid as i look.

the fact that i know that, should tell you something. but it never will. because you're always right.

three years, ladies. i'm holding that against you. and not in the warm and cuddly way.

i begged every day.
made myself look like a fuckin' fool.
made myself feel worse.

it didn't have to be this way.
we could have had fun in san francisco.
we could have had fun in los angeles.

and to that psycho bitch in portland... you know who you are... i hope you're dead by now. you cold hearted fuckin' demon queen. you fuckin' evil goat. obviously i still haven't forgotten that, nor have i let it go. and i never will. of all the shit the male security guards have done to me, you still hold a special collection of vengeance in my arsenal.

weapons of mass corruption.
that's all you ladies are.
you give no love.

weapons of mass consumption.

yeah... well... i'm just a heart that never stops creating, so until i'm worth something to you in your shiny happy fuckin' world of plastic fear in a bottle, you can kiss my fuckin' black ass.

cowards.

so after the crazy bitch this morning, and then the cute girl with her caseworker...

fuck it. i don't even want to be here. i figure i'll shroud myself in the darkness of starfucks for the rest of the day, and wrap myself in a defensive ball of hatred to block out the clones.

that's my only option when i'm not being fucked! touched! loved! noticed!

all men, we're all only talking about one thing, ladies! no matter what words we're using, no matter the translation or the language, we're all only saying one fucking thing to you brainless fucking women!!! there's only three fucking letters in the word!!! and one of those letters is kind of a symbol for the word itself!!! i'll give you a real good fucking hint!!! i'll rape it into your thick fucking skulls!!! i'll never let you fuckin' forget it!!! it's what buildings will be built on for the next million fucking years!!! you dumb fucking cunts!!! it's you!!! it's all for you!!! every goddamn building on this planet is for you!!! stop acting so fucking spoiled, and appreciate something!!! appreciate something worth appreciating!!! like the fucking bum with talent on the corner!!!

you fucking whores!!!
YOU FUCKING WHORES!!!

sex.
love.
touch.

why every dollar was made.
why every building was built.
why every recipe was cooked.
why we did anything at all.
why we even stepped out of that fucking cave in the first place.
it's why we're still here.

you gashes are too unaware of how well you  could control the outcome of humanity.

the development, the nurturing of humanity into a much more mature state.

did i really have to point that out?

you act so fucking queenish, without having a clue of the responsibilities you carry.

sure, write a few books, refuse to give up your seat on a bus, create a tunnel for slaves, remind us that lack of education is violence, fly around the world in less then a day, and then stick your head in an oven, whooptyfuckin'doo! my mother would still smack you upside the head, and then she's probly point out some typos. you fucking fruit snacks!

you've got the intellectual pulp of a fucking watermelon, and i can prove it with the tattoos on goatroach's eyes (aka the mother of my children) and the dead turd nest on her fuckin' head!

she sold my kids to cps like a back alley drug deal!

you fucking cornks!!!

i've got a virtual fucking library of good words for you skwanks.
and they all translate to the same fuckin' thing...

I'M FUCKING SICK OF BEING SO BRUTALLY FUCKING ALONE!!!

i'll repeat that... and not just copy/paste style, either...

I'M FUCKING SICK OF BEING SO BRUTALLY FUCKING ALONE!!!

see, i can type it twice, cause i'm that fucking sick of being that brutally fucking alone in this world! there's no excuse! there are seven billion people on this fucking planet! that means there are three point four billion douchebags, three point four billion coward skanks in luxury clothing, and point two billion of us are begging for you sick stupid greedy selfish fucks to fucking die!!!

and you're completely unaware! fucking clueless!! historically and galactically fucking ancestrally humiliatingly sickeningly fucking dumb!!! you don't even know how dumb, which is part of the joke!!! wake the fuck up!!! how loud do i have to scream it into your comatose fucking ear hole!!! wake the fuck up!!! you only think the world's going round. that's your delusion, not mine!!!

you fucking coldhearted fucking quanks.

she will never love you...

sorry to keep going off, but i'm really trying to force my mind to stick to the morning story.

i put my headphones on... my fingers keep wanting to type 'heartphones'.

i put my headphones on, and...

i forget.

but i know it hurt.

i guess whatever words were bubbling around it, just kinda slabbed over the pain, and fell asleep.

you women will never know how lonely i am. how miserable life is without you.

and i don't blame you for not knowing that, cause that's kind of inherent in your side of this flesh pond. you'll never know how miserable life is without you, cause... huhuh... fuckin' duh... you're you. you're the women who are needed for the party. in case you fuckin' forgot.

cause see, when guys party together, we do shit like form the kkk, and build monster trucks.

but with you ladies around, we sit the fuck down, shut the fuck up, and there are laughs to be ejected into the atmosphere.

you ladies truly don't see the difference, do you?

would you rather have the kkk idiot chasing after you in a monster truck?
would you rather we devolve into a nonfiction version of idiocracy in five hundred years or less?

it's up to you to take the fucking wheel, ladies. that's the type of driving you should have been doing this whole time. steering this species away from stupididididity. shit like forrest fucking gump.

instead of trying to be equal with men, you should have been trying to be the opposite influence.

so, that's my morning. my heartache. i'd like to finish this off by saying...

fuck ayn rand.
fuck helen keller.
fuck rachel carson.
fuck isadora duncan.
fuck angela davis.
fuck golda meir.
fuck elizabeth blackwell.
fuck gertrude stein.
fuck caroline kennedy.
fuck sally ride.
fuck julia child.
fuck tammy faye baker.
fuck barbara walters.
fuck georgia o'keeffe.
fuck annie oakley.
fuck josephine baker.
fuck janet reno.
fuck coco chanel.
fuck yves saint laurent.
fuck anais nin.
fuck betsy fuckin' ross.
fuck jackie kennedy.
fuck hillary clinton.
fuck rosa parks.
fuck harriet tubman.
fuck oprah winfrey.
fuck mother teresa.
fuck joan of arc.
fuck emily dickinson.
fuck anne frank.
fuck diana, princess of wales.
fuck madonna.
fuck janet jackson.
fuck jennifer lopez.
fuck kim kardashian.
fuck britney fuckin' spears.
fuck scragly ragflapper.
fuck marilyn monroe.
fuck eleanor roosevelt.
fuck joan rivers.

fuck everyone except maya angelou and my mama. and kat curtis.

the rest of you can suck a dick.

it's not me who will never be worth the touch it took to create my repugnant ass...

it's you.

i may be a smelly jobless bum, but at least i didn't stumble off an assembly line.

your tag's hangin'.

i'm gonna go spend my twenty bucks now...
ON ANYTHING BUT A PROSTITUTE!!!

because i'm worth being touched.