“He’d run across dudes like this before. In fact, one who had been almost exactly the same in his style of game. That one told everyone he was a pro MMA fighter and sold it by having a job at a gym. He targeted a woman with emotional problems and oozed his way into a ‘relationship’ with her, telling her how special she was and how only he got her. And then, of course, he started asking for money. His victim only realized it after she’d given him so much that she’d almost lost her home. And...
Blog
“None of them knew how racist she actually was, the things she’d said in the past, which made it bizarre beyond words and, yet, appropriate. Appropriate because, she, the liar, would never figure out that she had, by his own admission no less, been manipulated by a con man, a smooth-talking flim flam artist, who had taken her time and money, used their friendship, for himself. She had no expertise in that area, but it, apparently, never occurred to her that she was the last person he should...
As if the penchant for victimhood was not strong enough, blended thoroughly with compulsive lying, childishness, a dubious cold streak, coveting of the taken, paranoid neuroses, a perverse lack of shame, and a preference for the misogynistic, false, and heretical, it appeared she was also inclined to cradle robbing. She had absolutely no conscience and merely buried her transgressions in new ones. Whatever he had thought he had seen in her that was good, whatever beauty he had fooled himself...
To set out to prove oneself the best o f people,
The coolest and most charitable,
The most open-minded and non-judgmental,
The most supportive,
The best of friends and colleagues.
O, how the lies do multiply,
O, how the self-delusions do breed.
Never acknowledging one’s real sins, betrayals unspoken,
Those transgressions ignored and buried.
Would they think you great if they knew your real mind,
Things you’ve said,
Derogatory comments you’ve repeated, mimicking your real “friends?”
Unsupportive...
You thought you could demand he feel a way he did not,
Though you played it both ways, stoked flames and doused them in ice,
Sparking and refusing,
Kindling and blaming.
Now you think you decide when all is at an end,
When you no longer let it into your memories, your reveries,
Denying him any space in your mind, as he was never in your dead heart.
But you are so mistaken,
For Karma has not forgotten your sins,
And, though you try to cast them off into darkness,
It shall remind you always,...
Upon a time, now centuries-old,
A heart was offered, and a hand.
But it was bitten more times than told,
Causing blood to wash the land.
False witness made, things said untrue,
Crossed, that line in the sand,
But no remorse subsumed you,
And you remain forever damned.
Time tore into oblivion,
Following the ruts of lies kept as shields,
The past blurring into a swirl of untended carnage.
There was nothing left for her but those lies.
They were all she really had,
And an ersatz future,
Built upon them in vanity,
Owned for the sake of being owned.
A phony love made of prevarications and self-deceit,
Red but not in passion … in blood of betrayal,
Only casual acquaintance cast in false fluorescence,
Cardboard made to look like castles,
A new place to hide from...
We’ve lost the fight,
We’ve lost what’s right,
We’ve said goodbye to all that matters.
We’ve lost real love,
We’ve killed the dove,
And the moon sheds tears and shatters.
But the raven knows our faces,
And can see our disgraces,
He caws to us warning,
Of dire misery,
Of the lies he can see,
The cause of fate’s own mourning.
He knows our longing,
Our dreams that cling,
And he bids us to turn back our course,
For he sees future and past,
He knows what fate has cast,
And tells us to have remorse.
He had died a thousand heart deaths,
And yet every morning he awoke against his wishes.
Now the joyous time was come again,
With its sweet and savory dishes.
But he found no joy in any of it,
Its routine he found dreary and cruel,
It was a time for the false of face,
A time of year for the insincere of heart to rule.
And they would confuse the nostalgia of the season,
With love that did not truly exist,
Fascination with whom they would not have wanted
For any reason, taking the arm of a new...
They they were.
All the people,
Dressed like the departed and rotting,
Reveling in exposing who they were,
While hiding in the open.
Dead inside … the irony,
All dressed up,
Like that thorny, withered, parasitic weed
That thought itself a rose in a garden of snakes
He had the potential to be everything you feigned to fear … as did anyone else, as do those you choose and they are much closer to it, if not there already. No, he had been nice, sincere, had cared for you, only wanted to help you, to get to know you better. But you, you asshole, lied to him, made him think what was not true, a vile false friend with an ulterior agenda, while you were already turning him into what you wanted him to become to allow you to reap the whirlwind of pity for your...
Have you found your new little lie,
A family friend, a “wholesome guy,”
Who never wanted you until now, oh my,
Did you ever stop to wonder why?
A “Mister Rogers” with money high,
Nice for now but will make you cry,
A Latin man with a plastic face to buy
Your sorry lies and selfish sty,
Who sics his idiot brother on one who really loved you?
If so, it’s all a lie,
And you are his little prostitute for cash supply,
Both of you as false as a glass eye.
He’d finally cut the cord, ended the surveillance by blocking out all of her potential spies, and now he could speak freely without worry of having everything parsed and ill-contextualized by those with a malevolent agenda. His words had never penetrated to her heart anyway, falling upon a mind that twisted them into something else. Her heart was twisted.
He was sorry for what had happened and always would be, but he knew that she was aware of why it had happened, aware of her own actions....
And once called out, depicted in reality, in context,
They belligerently decried it as a lie, thereby assuring that it was all true,
Because they were liars by constitution, ruled by hate, though they claimed love,
Feigning deep umbrage at the accusation, when they were offended by everything aimed at them,
“Tuff guys,” whose inferiority was as blatant as their cowardice,
And as deaf to the truth as she wished she could be.
The ugly, unattached ones swarmed her, looking for advantage but not...
You claimed to live in fear, that I was the danger to your life, to your family … even to children, you devious slanderer. But as with everything else, it was dramatics … and you lied. You knew me. You knew I was gentle. You knew that I only wanted to hold you and was a threat to none. And you knew that you had instigated my thoughtless, short-lived rage with your deception. You were well aware that you had nothing to fear from me. It was a ruse you plied for leverage, to make everyone...
Glaring from the end of the aisle, eyes made into iron, mouth drawn tight in anger, hate. So intent upon showing him up, demonstrating her displeasure, condemning him, with eyes locked. She was completely full of shit. Though she sought to play the role she was assigned, the one eternally wronged, the pinnacle of virtue casting down the pariah, yet, through the air of ice, she could not stop from unconsciously, coyly, playing with her hair, the way women did when they spotted their love. She...
“NEVER TELL
My name is Sarah Bischoff and the confession of my sins is long.
As I will never make it of my own volition, it comes by proxy through this song.
There is much I never told you, o those whom I’ve misled,
So much I did that I’ve omitted, never to be spoken, by me unsaid.
First I must confess I never told him to leave me be or go away,
Although I’ve told you all I did, and reported it that way.
No, instead I let him think that we were friends and talked to him at length,
While...
She told herself that she was the best mother in the world … but she was so far from it that the truth, if she were ever able to accept it, would destroy her mind. She’d revealed her further neurosis when a man who’d loved her, and she’d tried to ruin for it, had kidded her about being a tad overbearing, and she’d lost her shit over it. The truth was that she was, and, not only had she saddled her progeny with a grifting, misogynistic, racist heretic for a father, but she’d infantilized them,...
It feels as though all time came and went,
All for naught, all chances misspent.
And now there is nothing,
Nothing to care about,
Nothing that matters,
Rage, hate, desire, love, now nothing but tatters.
And it matters not if we forever close that door,
Because none of it matters,
And there is nothing more.
It had all been for her.
Hundreds of hours of despair, remorse, apology, heartfelt warning, pleading, anger, recrimination, frustration, desire, hate... and love. The magnitude, the loyalty, meant nothing to her. She’d likely never seen it. And, if she had, she felt nothing. She’d never had the slightest feeling for him, except disdain. His words, his heart, his love, his life, hadn’t been worth one shitty dinner at an expensive restaurant to her. He had now ceased to exist to her for half as...