He knew that he could stab at her, as she had done to him, merely by digging up the sordid past of the sleaze she had let into her life instead of him. It would not prove too hard, as the skeletons were assuredly there, well hidden but never gone. But he did not. He had no desire to ruin her, especially when she was going to do a fine job of that herself. He could have complicated her life no end just by turning her in, and he had not. He’d loved her, and, although that was no more, he did...
Blog
What care I for love? One who can touch my heart can hurt it. So give me one for whom I truly do not care, not deep down. Someone passable, easy to let go, easy to ignore, who my friends believe is a catch. Someone I can grow accustom to without any cost to my heart. Love can be faked if there are other considerations … money. Life is not about love. It is about the illusion of it, for other eyes. I do not need it nor crave it, nor do I look for it sincerely. And, if I do, I stab that part of...
White trash … What is it really?
Is it just poverty?
Are poor folks with good hearts trying to make ends meet trash?
No … it is a mentality.
It’s a choice, and it can be chosen by anyone.
White trash is bigotry and willful ignorance.
It’s a criminal mind that does not confess its crimes.
It’s the choice of bad people over good, tribalism.
It’s controlling men and spineless women.
It’s grasping and selfish and full of foul ideas.
It’s closed mindedness.
It matters not if they drive a cheap car...
His mind floated back in time to things that could have been, and it landed upon the memory of a woman. There was a certain bar that he and friends had once frequented, a somewhat seedy, two-story establishment with an open center, allowing for a view of the entire area from everywhere but the pool tables and bathrooms. It served Bud Light by the pitcher with plastic cups, though everyone was convinced that it was really Milwaukee’s Beast, and he and his friends would often gamble on 3 ball...
Did daddy raise a dummy?
Did daddy raise a cultist nut,
A liar,
An immoral, arrogant egotist,
A vindictive denier,
A belligerent,
A greedy fool?
A doormat?
Did daddy teach you to be cruel?
Did he teach you better?
Or did you adopt the imbecility of the worst around,
The daddy surrogates you sold yourself to for a false sense of independence?
Where did you go?
Did daddy raise a tool?
Would he be proud of you?
Worry not if you are guilty and know it,
Exposed in a lie,
Caught at the wrong end of an argument,
Unable to defend your position,
Unable to refute the evidence.
Worry not, for this is the post-morality era.
Just deny, belligerent, and turn it on its head,
And make sure to tell everyone.
Just turn it on its head and repeat it forever.
You don’t need proof or even reason.
Do not concede anything ever, worry not about your soul.
Just turn it on its head, vociferous, uncompromising.
And, once...
Never reveal your feelings,
Your deepest wants and desires.
Keep them hidden, buried within,
Behind a lock, giving no one the key.
Stab them until they die,
Because no one can be trusted with them,
Not even the one who sparked them.
For the second you expose yourself,
You make yourself a target,
And you will likely be destroyed by the very one you wanted.
It is better to accept a fake life,
A false love, without real commitment,
Or to be alone.
For then you cannot be undone by your own heart’s...
Let us go to pray,
Though we do not follow what we say,
In the church of God that is just us,
Substituting for faith our own righteousness.
For we do not truly believe,
And know the flock masters do deceive,
But we feign to pray while they prey,
Upon our feigned naivete.
No this be not a community pastime,
But a corporation that partakes in crime,
Preaching not love but insidious hate,
To which we heretics masturbate.
Look at our pastor, teeth glaring white,
With wealth built upon our phony...
We wallow in our disappointments, miseries, and doubts,
We wallow in our ruts.
Making no effort to change them, just trying to disregard the stale air.
Even what we see as new is only a permutation of the same old song,
New people, same as the old people,
Same thoughts, same beliefs, same ruses, same cons, same dances, same songs.
The ones we’ve always known that have never filled our souls.
We trap ourselves in routine of thoughts, regrets,
But we do not seek to address the issues, to face...
Bees, likely the most important little lives,
Making most others possible,
Are treasure unto themselves.
But it is the firefly that spots the dusk,
Enchanting the warm night air,
Allowing childhood to reawaken in the heart.
Their light is a bridge to other worlds we have forgotten,
And reminds our younger selves once more of the possibility of magic.
He loved animals, and not in the banal way most claim. Children always sought his attention. He was not the best-looking, not the stand out in a crowd, but he still turned many eyes. He did not shy away from compassion, and he would befriend the outcast, even to his own detriment. He was not hostile, only quiet, unless piqued by unwarranted assault. He was neither large nor violent, but he had the capacity to maim if need be. He loved hard and completely, and it was all he really wanted from...
I had no childhood dreams,
I just wanted to survive,
Not a doctor nor an astronaut,
Just to make it through alive.
Does that seem awful?
Does that seem perverse?
No dreams to sell for worthless trifles,
Which, to me, is so much worse.
So you cannot let me down,
There’s nothing that will surprise me,
I know the depths of human selfishness,
Though the spite still hurts inside me.
Happiness was never supposed to be mine,
Only endless turmoil, and that’s fine.
Learned to live with it long ago,
For I refuse to put on a show.
And I am content to be alone,
For false love is nothing good to hone.
No, company loses all its sense,
When it’s based in games and pretense.
I wanted only a heart that matched mine,
But there is not one in existence, and that’s fine.
I was never to have love for more than a blink, and that’s fair
Because I honestly no longer care.
I’m completely...
To be disliked and smeared by many …
Is no great travesty,
When they act in ignorance and are the worst the world can offer,
Contributing nothing of social value to life,
But insincerity, selfishness, and shallowness,
And training their offspring in the same way.
Their lives, their pursuit of “the good life,”
Their obsessions with competition only admissions that they are lesser,
Their claims to be blessed by a god they don’t even believe in, a sad cry,
So worried about what others have and...
Sunny days,
Joy inside at a familiar face,
Sweet pain of longing,
Light of hope.
Bitten.
Black clouds,
Despair at a familiar face turned to scorn,
Pain of loss.
Floods of insanity and deceit.
Slow death.
Rise again, emptiness.
Staring into nothing.
Signs of impiousness,
Of faith only spoken as a ruse,
Hiding black hearts and deviancy,
Condoning greed and sexual abuse.
Oh, the song of the hill, united in scam,
Megachurch morons and an open sign,
That one is a misogynist and worships the ram.
No real woman would follow this con,
Only a brainwashed idiot,
In league with devil’s spawn.
If this is your belief,
This is your thing,
Then you’ve outed yourself,
As a true fake Christian.
Megachurches collect members for money, like their deviant sheep collect women online for sex and swinging. If you buy into that shit, hate to tell you, but you've been abused your whole life. And there's a reason that hardly a day goes by when one of those pastors, deacons, etc. isn't arrested for kiddie porn or pedophilia. In fact, churches, in general and historically, are and have always been known for harboring both types, and megachurches are right out in the open about it because they’...
When there is nothing real in them, they must be forgotten.
When they have no honesty, they're nothing but rotten.
When lies are their life and they only seek status,
Let them go ruin themselves in their chosen madness.
When their beliefs are from cults that abuse god for money,
Then they're lost to the truth and can't be made to see.
When they suffer themselves to be treated like trash,
Trying to help them is nothing but rash.
When their world is controlled by every user around,
Let them go...
The last revelation was the death blow so cold, exposing such hypocrisy that it collapsed my mind in disbelief, like drinking ice while in the throes of hypothermia. What had I killed myself over? Nothing. No one. There had never been anyone real who could be identified. In place of what I had thought I loved, all that stood now was a statue so frigid and vindictive, so false and distorted, a heart so empty and cold that I could never have looked at it without revulsion had I seen its true...
I died for no reason,
For no love that did call,
For a petty face,
That was not pretty at all.
For a heart with no truth,
My life taken away,
Sacrificed for nothing,
But a vampire’s false sway.
Dead now, without meaning,
Without night, without day,
Heart pierced by a ghost,
Just a vile shadow astray.