kill the rich

these hot fuckin bitches get to have so much fun.
they never sacrifice shit.
they never hurt.
you bitches just will not fuckin look at me.

done

gonna fuckin kill myself.
no one gives a fuck.

exhausted

i am so sick of this life. i have no idea what the hell to do right now. i'm on my laptop, but... i'm sick of positivesingles, everyone on there is too immature to talk to, they just throw insults around, which is pretty odd for a community of people with herpes. you wonder why the fuck they've resorted to throwing insults instead of fucking eachother. i wish i could remind those people, they have herpes, not only does that mean half of the challenge is already out of the way, but... you know... there are two different puzzles, there's the normal people puzzle, and the herpes puzzle, and you're just a piece in a new puzzle, plenty of new pieces to fit with. but they just don't think of it that way, instead, for whatever stupid reason, they think that... because they have herpes, that gives them an excuse to shit on everyone, and blame me for it. why did i get the lifelong scapegoat role. i ordered the lifelong pussy platter.

i pushed my van closer to the starfucks last night. i've only got thirteen bucks left for the rest of the month, which means i can't even get weed, i'm out of weed, i need socks. but i really don't even know what to look for or where to look for it.

...

well... i just spent the last hour talking to tifanee. the main thing i can keep thinking is... i'm not good enough for her. she's sitting across from me talking about pursuing her dreams, i'm sitting here behind the same fuckin barricade of self destruction i can't even agree with.

i really don't feel like i was responsible for destroying myself. i know that's what everyone says. why does everyone else think that... if anything bad happens in your life, it's only your fault, and no one else's... i really cannot understand that perspective, it's so backward and wrong.

if i'm responsible for getting hit by a car, then why do we have cops?

my mind feels fucking stunted. i just sat here talking to her for the last hour. i saw nothing wrong with her at all, i was infatuated. fascinated. but... i just feel like... like when i look for the reflection in her eyes, i just see a turd sitting there. i have no fucking clue what to think.

how come everyone else got a dose of inspiration, and they were able to use theirs, but my dose of inspiration was bigger, and my supportive circle was... nonexistent. abusive.

and then i always get blamed and held responsible for my own abuse. if i was held back in my life, it can only be my fault, not the teachers, not society... not that blame is even necessary, it's not blame i'm trying to aim for here. but shouldn't there come a time when society says 'okay, we get it, we failed you', and at least step out of the way, or... is this even a fuckin debate or not.

i just feel like a useless piece of shit, no matter what anyone says to me, if they tell me the empowering stuff, i still feel like a piece of shit, if they tell me the degrading stuff... i feel the same, there's no difference. i just feel invisible.

she says that when you say those words, you're giving them existence, power...

i've... i don't know what to say. i can't think. my head is just... imprisoned in this shell of what everyone else says, the ancient writings on the cell walls, it's not tradition to me, it's superstition.

i feel that i had tried to think positive before all this shit, and that it got me nowhere, because it doesn't matter if you're thinking positively about your gifts... if no one else is giving a shit about your gifts, where is it going to get you? if you obsess over your gifts and keep shoving them in everyone else's faces, are they going to be more inclined to accept you? or just more annoyed?

think about it, if the only colour on this planet were gold, and you come along trying to sell everyone a silver cheeseburger... do you think they would ever buy it?

or let me put it this way... if this were a truck loving nation, and you traveled from japan at the risk of everything to sell your prius to the americans... what would your sales pitch be?

'i know you guys love your trucks, but look at this thing!'.

yeah, i've never been that guy. i'm not a salesman, so selling my own product to a crowd of shoppers... it's really not what i'm here for. i don't see why you should have to get anyone else interested in your ideas for you to just exist in your own life, why should your success depend on anyone else? but it does. and that's the secret illusion they hide from you at all costs.

they insist that you're on your own. they insist that you have to build your own life. they have other people demonstrating that they have done so.

but ask every single one of those successful people, 'who helped you?'.

find out what support they had. figure out if they actually had to do every little step of the way, every little brick in their building by themselves, with no help from anyone, not one other person ever lifting so much as a brick or a nail, go ahead, i'm already doubled down.

all i see is the way males stare at me. you want me to see anything else?

good people have yet to grace my television screen. good advice has yet to, either.

so i really don't see the 'humanity' that humanity is insisting that i see. it just looks like an illusion to me, filled with the hot air of lies, self justifying propaganda.

i've wanted to dig to the core of this problem since i was born. i was never allowed to, and the reason i say that is the same reason you're already arguing it. i really don't have any faith that you're going to understand that much. in fact, i'm confident i have to rephrase that a few more times before it sinks in. this is just from my personal experience. if i should have had another personal experience...

seems to me like you coulda been there.

but... after talking to tifanee... i just feel like a turd. she walks away, and i'm just left sitting here... i feel like a grandfather on nickelodeon, getting a bucket of green slime dumped on me by some vengeful little shit. crowd pointing and laughing. why do i feel that way?

i don't feel like i have had as much control over my own words as even others may seem to think.

because i've tried putting into my head that i am cool, i am awesome, but...

if i'm thinking that, it only gives me like... fifty points and a one up.

but if she's thinking that i'm awesome... that's a thousand points and five up.

but then again, look at it the other way... if i think she's awesome... that's like taking three gold coins from her, and possibly her lunch, too. so how is any man supposed to think he's cool enough for her to think the same fuckin thing? i really don't see it, the math does not add up.

no, i still just feel like a turd, it doesn't matter what i think, say, or do. if i'm a turd in her eyes, that's all i'm going to feel like, and she can't understand that. any 'she'. any 'her'. any fucking woman.

but she was telling me all this... success... of hers... and... all i have to show is failure, the dreams don't matter for shit if they're just dreams. i could have made the best record on earth, but if it was never burned onto a cd, or etched into a fuckin vinyl or whatever... who the fuck is ever gonna give a shit?

so... that's it. i feel like i just made more of an awkward ass of myself and got no closer to a woman.

she's adorable, and i felt like offering her everything, but...

god... three dominant douchebags just had to walk in and boy... stared at me for about five seconds straight, all three of them, just 'do da lee doo, what the fuck is that...???'.

i can't even think right now, my mind is sauced from talking to tifanee...

...

well, fuck it, now i just spent the last hour arguing with... stupid facebook bitch yet again. the one who constantly has to degrade me and nag me about how horrible i am and that i don't want help despite my pleas. i feel like such a piece of shit. so... i forget what all i was saying anyway, but it's ten am, and i'm gonna go back out to my van, cause i already can't think for shit, too much chaos and interruptions of thought, i never get to think what i want anyway, people just can't stop telling me how i should think. and i am so sick of that. sick and fucking tired of that.

tifanee was trying to say, if you think to yourself 'i am awesome, i am...'... whatever... that it becomes true... but i still always feel like saying... if that were true... wouldn't it have happened by now? wouldn't anyone else but me think i was cool? i mean, i'm forty fuckin years old, what did i miss?

cause i seem to know, that if i had stood in front of otep shamaya ten years ago and said 'i'm fuckin awesome', she would have rolled her eyes like any other empty bitch, and hid behind a fuckin door till security trashed me in a dumpster. you think otherwise? go ahead, spew.

cause we all know, there's a sea of ears under you...

every fucking time

every fucking time i catch a male looking me in the eye...

every fucking time... every fucking day...

it just disturbs the shit outta me. it won't stop. it will not fucking stop.

they will not fucking stop. it's every fucking day. several times a day.

they can't stop staring at me, they can't stop asking me for shit.

why can't they stop? it is so traumatic, so disturbing, that every single fucking one of them has to look into my eyes.

no matter their social status...
whether they're above me or below me...

they have to stare, they have to look me dead in the eye, in the most uncomfortable way, and i cannot fucking stand it anymore, i can't look away quick enough.

i fucking hate this life. i fucking want to die so bad.

just now, talking to the starfucks lady, there's some douchebag standing behind me staring over my fucking shoulder at my fucking desktop... god, get the fuck away from me! you sickening fucking creeps! he's complete scum, long strangly hair, dirty clothes, jeans... scumbag! just staring at me, i can't even talk to another woman without some douchebag being right fucking there! the second i'm done talking to her, i look back, he's just right fuckin there, like 'dude, can i see?'

you make me fucking sick. you make me fucking suicidal.

how many fucking males do i have to tell? stay the fuck away from me!

god, i'm disturbed and shaking to the core of my fucking heart, man.

i feel like this heart's just gonna stop beating if a woman doesn't touch me soon.

even the bitches on positive singles, i swear they're paid by the cia to be as cruel as possible. there's no other excuse. you shit on people, and blame them for doing the same. the shit stops with you, asshole. the abuse stops with you. i fucking want to die.

vile twats

all women can do is belittle me.

i have yet to be proven wrong.

i fucking want to die.

reversal

i really wish women could have looked at me.

i really wish men could have stopped staring at me.

not even fat women will look at me.
not even ugly women will look at me.
not even old women will look at me.
not even homeless women.

but all males have to stare.

you make me so suicidal, i'm surprised i'm still here.

i fucking want to kill myself so bad.

you women make life so miserable.
does it really have to be this impossible to get laid?
do seven billion women have to say no to me?

pussy

i fuckin just wanna fuckin die man.

you bitches are never gonna fuckin look at me.

how many types of women can you think of?

there's the goodie two shoes employee snob prudes that think you're not a human till you're employed and they try to change you and stuff you into some douchebag mold.

there's the drug addicts. i don't even count them.

that's pretty much all i ever get to encounter.

if you know of any others, let me know.

i am still hoping to find an unemployed, unaddicted woman. or, a jobless, drugless, godless woman.

where are the bad girls who rebel against the norm?

seriously, are there any left?

violated

i have been so violated by god. for so long.

he never brought love and acceptance.

he only brought condemnation and degradation.

but if i deny that delusion... the delusion gets more forceful and hostile.

remind you of anyone else? deceiver of sorts? dictator?

i have washed my hands of god, rid myself of god.

and i'm so happy. now i have more room in my heart for godless vagina.

she just could not stop

she just could not stop violating my heart and raping my ear with her god.

will they ever stop, or will they drive me to suicide?

let another one go

there was just a homeless lady in this starfucks that looked sober and cool, and i really should have asked her to stay with me, but i am so fucking sick of being rejected everytime... and then i just hate myself when they walk away... fuckin hate myself. i really could have asked her. but she left. and i didn't. i could have told her i have a van. i fuckin hate myself, man.

but the flawless track record of rejection is just fucking pathetic. that's all women ever say is no. and then they lie, and say they say yes, bull fuckin shit, man, when? when? to what? to who?

you fuckin frauds, man. my heart just fuckin hurts. and no one cares.

update, managed to find the same girl, she's in my van now, of course she's a methhead like everyone else, but she's fifty... she's here.

update, her name's carol, and apparently she's sticking around. did it finally happen?

update, seven am, she left twelve hours ago to do her drug and never came back. she said two hours. of course. that's all i ever get. vacant ghost friends. thanks, humanity, for being so awesome. sick of this shit happening to me.

update, four pm, she's back, it's fucking snowing. I'm miserable.

waiting

i can't be productive because i'm always waiting for everyone else while they're being "productive", but they're not being productive, they're just perpetuating a delusion.