mystery of vagina's competition

i don't feel like writing this, but it needs to be written. in the past three years, i have been through the loop of all the homeless organizations on the west coast. i'm sorry to say, they're all frauds. at least, that's my impression. it's... sad. i don't even know what to say about it. other than... i can't even tell you how suicidal i am. i see no point in living anymore. this whole fuckin' thing is a scam. a lie. make people homeless so they can... what? not live to finish that sentence? rebuild their lives under your rules and restrictions and cold, heartless fuckin' corrupt fascist tyranny? you think this world is so great. that says more about you than the rest of us. it's sad to see what society looks like from beneath it. the bottom of the shoe, that false love. i don't even know why i'm writing this, there's nowhere i could post it where anyone would ever read it. let alone give a fuck. it's sad to see. rex with facing homelessness. ben with operation nightwatch. i can't even think of the rest at this point, but i know i've been through them all. every fucking one of them, begging them for help, and they just refuse to send out an actual human hand, it's just a shitload of excuses. they don't intend to help any of us. if they did, there would be programs in place to take suggestions, and programs in place to help us pursue our talents, rather than following orders and scrubbing fuckin' floors, but that's all society wants, is their grunt work done for them.

i don't know why the fuck i'm still alive, but this is fucking sad. this ending is growing very dark and narrow, and i don't know why i'm still alive. i don't think i should be. i don't see any alternate futures anymore. it's just a dark little cone. being ignored by women, and rejected by everything else. until you finally snap and shoot someone, and that's society's entire solution to all their problems, and they think it's so fuckin' great! they think they're something to be bragged about and celebrated. they think there could never be anything better than this planet.

i swear i'm gonna put a fuckin' knife through my heart soon. just to kill the pain. to end this nightmare.

but i really want to try to think of what else i can still do, as miserable as i know it's gonna fuckin' be. i need to stop focusing on females all together, get my heart to stop wanting that useless shit, and find some other way around this roadblock. but i know it's gonna be hard, i know that motivation for anything comes from physical contact. but that's just never going to happen. then, when i become successful, girls are going to line up, just to get kicked down the fuckin' stairs. and they're gonna wonder why i'm so cold, such an asshole. gee, ladies, i wonder. perhaps because you're too lazy to even do your own research to find out why. but i'm obviously wrong, and that's all up to you to figure out, so stop asking me to inform you. fucking cheap fake plastic cowards. you're all the same and i can prove it. i don't see you fighting for love. i see you pampered with way too much of it. and no, you don't fucking deserve it. you take it for granted. i can prove that, too.

you want money, drugs, jesus, and mister gq fat wallet clone. you make me fucking sick. prove me fucking wrong, you cowards. i'm still waiting.

i fucking hate women, i fucking hate men, i'm declaring war on women. i'm sorry. that's all there is to it. this is war, you coward cunts. you cheap fake plastic fuckin' squatgoats. you're useless, not worth a fucking thing. wastes of fucking vagina. just like the homeless organizations. i'm doing more than any of you to make this world better, and all you can do is tell me i'm not. fuck you. credit cards don't buy this kind of love, assmaggots. all you can afford is plastic. fake life. fake love.

blowup dolls purchasing blowup dolls and fucking blowup dolls to produce animated mannequins and credit cards with shoes. i detest this entire fucking planet.

so... it's occurred to me... if the homeless programs aren't doing what i think they should be doing, just start doing my own, no matter who tells me no. and if women aren't doing for me what i need... do it my fuckin' self. if they can't stand there and hold my camera, find a fuckin' rock. if they can't drag my case a few blocks for me, or watch it for ten minutes... fuckin' dump it in the fuckin' ocean. along with my castrated self. where does motivation come from, if not females? there has to be another source of motivation other than vagina. i feel like i'm starting a quest for a holy fuckin' grail or something. the lost mystery of vagina's competition.

fuck you women. you're not worth the fuckin' dime you were made from.

women just don't fuckin' look at me. they just refuse to fuckin' see me. you fucking cowards. pink little fucking whiny spoiled pampered fucking cowards.

until one of you is brave enough to prove me wrong... it's every fuckin' one of you.

keep waiting for someone else to save the fuckin' world, it won't be done your way. lead by example. cunts. you bitch more than queers. you should be ashamed of yourselves. and all that bullshit, i really can't wait to take you down on every fucking point of your argument.

to start with, entitlement. ladies, i know you're too stupid and oblivious to understand this, but... you're all entitled to one hundred percent of my body, free of charge. i know it's too ugly for you to touch, it's got ebola and cooties, it's an unbathed crime, and it would actually bankrupt you just to look at it, but aside from that, it's all yours. so that just about bludgeons that argument to death.

point number two, objectification. boy. you ladies are such cheap products, you actually have to bitch about which body parts get more attention? we seriously still cannot suck one nipple without the other feeling neglected still? what about the bum in the dark who's been lonely against his will for three years? if you're so bothered by objectification, then fucking objectify me. every time you ladies get raped, come find me and rape me back. every time you get sexually assaulted, come find me and sexually assault me back. everything those douchebag males do to you against your will, you can do to me just to make yourselves feel better. deal? is that fair? come on, ladies, don't puss out, put out. you don't want me to win this game, do you? you don't want me to go down in history as being more brave than you, do you? cause all you have to do to even this playing field... well... i'm sure you know what that is. it's everything you're sick of. it's what makes your eyes roll. mel gibson couldn't say it better at this point. it's what women don't want. think i'm wrong? now's your chance to speak up and not be such a coward. i'm offering you every fucking chance in the book. if you're intimidated by me because i'm so intelligent... fucking go back to school then! learn something i don't know yet! hit me with it! fuck me with it! do something! be a living breathing part of this planet! you fucking cowards! prove me wrong, and i'll pay you! i ain't paying you until you're worth it, until you do something to earn it, other than being born with a fucking vagina.

point number three, one you're not brave enough to answer. why is your body a commodity while my body's a crime? simple question, but i'll never ever get a legitimate answer, let alone a brave, ballsy one. or the truth. or at least the honest version. no, you've already got the offensive version locked and loaded, but you're underestimating me as always ladies, i'm the one with the arsenal of ammunition to fire back at you, i'm just waiting for you to get on the fuckin' battlefield. don't believe me? go ahead, test me. tell me if it hurts. i'd offer you a warning from the mother of my children first, but you see her around anywhere?

hypocrisy. double standards. lies. excuses. watch me tear it all down, ladies. watch me make your 'free will' less relevant in the face of free love.

all you're doing to stop me, is ignoring me. that's not a very heavy duty weapon, ladies.

i fucking want to die. so bad. so much. i want this nightmare over. end it. stab this fuckin' heart. stop this pain. stop the yearning. delete me.

take everything that this life ever wanted to be, wrap it in a little ball of pain and shame, throw it in the wood chipper, and hit the button that says 'deep six'.

surrender to the arms of darkness beneath me. cease to exist.

nothing changes until you, like i do, blame yourself for every single suicide. sympathy grows, but empathy knows. compassion glows.

you're void of anything good. you and your pussy.