Something was wrong with this place, with many of these people, an underlying infantilism that was lacking in most of the places that he had lived. It was cultural and insidious. A friend of his in school, who had grown up in the area, had once remarked that people out here, even with their education and money, were dumber. But he had been wrong. They weren't any dumber than the rest of the country. It was a product of unearned privilege, of family money and connections, that had stunted...
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Fate is going to eat you,
Chew you up and pick your soul from its fangs,
For your deceit has defeated him once more.
You did not come to his aid and admit your sins, your lies,
And the corrupt of mind have used it against him, the dogs you sicced.
He was righteous. He told the truth. Your lies served their purpose.
Deny it no more! You no longer have reason to,
And make no mistake, you are responsible.
You could have had something real but choose nothing.
Fate will tear your essence form you...
When one dwells with a monster for too long, the infection spreads, infesting parts of the psyche, until one becomes like it. It infects those around one, and they, in turn, reinforce its malevolency in one’s soul. The only way to defeat the monster’s insidious rot is to cast off all that it was, all that one recognizes as having come from it. It may have become hard to tell oneself from the disease, but it must be done, if one wants to cure oneself. And it cannot be done by seeking those...
Who holds your heart?
'Tis a trick question, as one cannot hold what does not exist.
Let us rephrase.
Who has shown himself the most convenient to you?
Whom have you led to believe he matters, as if you would not cut his throat the second he does not meet your shallow wants?
Whom do you lead into feeling cared about, when what you care about is whether or not he meets unwritten material qualifications.
You don't even have to like him, as long as he does.
Whom have you dishonestly deferred to,...
It wasn’t how he’d planned to go, but his great grandfather had. And he had inherited that particular curse, which was actually good, considering what else he could have. It had allowed him to exist for this long, though now he wish it hadn’t.
The aspirin seemed have allayed the situation for the time being, but he good go in a decade or go in his sleep that night. There was no way to tell. DVT were wicked that way, wicked as she had been — a secretive malevolence imparting a silent death.
...
Stabbing pain in my head,
Loss of sight, left eye,
Going to throw up,
Likely from my lung.
Hours ago.
So stressed, the idea of aspirin having fled my consciousness, except when shooting pain arose.
Forgotten now for months on end, as I could barely remember to take it before your lies.
You remember the aspirin, surely.
No, you’ve likely rewritten that as well, or never cared enough to note it.
Maybe it was “gay.”
The stress, stress that is greatly your fault, a trigger,
Yes, a passing attack,...
The question that ate at him was, what, exactly, was being sought that was better than he was. He was loyal. He had never cheated on anyone. He was honest (when not being attacked and giving tit for tat). He was loathe to say he was at least passably good-looking, but he’d heard it before and there had been interest from her prior to the mess, denied now or not. He had a wicked sense of humor; she had said so herself. He truly cared for animals, more than she likely did. He would have...
With all of the horrible things that happen in the world, when someone creates issues where there aren’t any, it’s never justifiable. They have transgressed. And when that transgression goes without their acknowledgment, regardless of the other’s responses, it is not only a travesty but a sin against truth.
When one feigns appreciation for another, even if it is undertaken to be “nice,” while slamming them to others, it is a selfish act and a sin. It is not nice.
When one refuses to respect...
I am tired.
I am broken.
I see no future for this world,
Only hate, bigotry, and fraudulence.
Honest souls are few and far between.
Love has no value,
Sincere words have no impact.
I am tired.
I am broken.
My soul is shredded and my heart stopped beating long ago.
No amount of oblivious positivity can cure this world.
I shall finish my writing,
Then hope this permanent rale in my chest signifies escape from this horror show.
Then I can sleep soundly as dust.
And you will still be guilty and...
It had been two years. But, to him, it had been a never-ending ordeal and had no visible horizon. It felt like months only, even days. She would claim it had been an eon, and that she did not even remember his name. But that would be her mind seeking to silence her heart once more, to adhere to what was expected of her. It had only been a few weeks since she had attempted to sic her ill-informed messenger on him, and, before that, it had been less than a year since she had sent him the most...
“You can’t tell me who to be with!” Ciara cried!
Kirk looked at her sardonically. “Oh, but I can, my dear. Though I could not make you choose me, I now want you to find the worst of the worst, to have exactly what you want, since you don’t learn. You see, all I have to do is be honest. All I have to do is note what they, themselves, plaster all over for all to see, what’s right out in the open. And the more I out them for what they surely are … the more assured it is that you will choose them...
As I presume the marketers never actually read the material, I leave this here. I can be reached through encrypted, anonymous mail at the following address.
thegrendel@tutamail.com
This is for personal use, not marketing.
For marketing, I am at uilleam.whitedale@outlook.com. and you pitch will likely be ignored.
You owe me. And no amount of denial will ever make that fact go away. You owe me for the time you stole from me. You owe me for the attention you took under false pretenses. If I had known what you were, if you had been honest, I would never have given it to you. You owe me for my compassion, which you used. And you owe me for what you’ve made me into, which you did by being melodramatic for no reason. And you will owe me forever, no matter how much you ignore it, no matter the excuses you...
As you sit in church,
As you feign piety, act as if you’ve live up to your chosen obligations,
Those chosen for you, the faith given to you in name,
And you grieve for your loss,
Know that your grief is justified.
He is all you knew.
I too lost mine right after yours, as I was trapped in the turmoil you helped create.
He was never there, and that was not a loss, and no that does not confirm your invented theories.
Did you tell yours what you did, all of it?
No, you did not, could not have.
Would...
You mock sincerity because you have no truth.
You act like an infantile man because you mimic the losers you made yourself subservient to.
What did they give you? Why do you strive to be like them, or is it just reflexive now?
You’ve made yourself crude and ridiculous, like a female cat who grew up with wild dogs and pisses everywhere and bites.
Knock of the bullshit bravado and feel something real, not what you invented.
Stop acting like a frat boy, a mindless trust fund baby who mocks...
Telling is not teaching.
Seeking your opinion from others is not existing
Those who know you will just repeat their opinions and let you
Do not love you
They are content with controlling you
Those who expect you to accept their opinions
Do not want to love you
They want to control you
And you who simply repeat their opinions as if you came to the conclusion yourself
You do not love them
You let them control you because you are using them
Love is never subservience to another person
It is a shared...
“You can’t tell me who to be with!” Ciara cried!
Kirk looked at her sardonically. “Oh, but I can, my dear. Though I could not make you choose me, I now want you to find the worst of the worst, to have exactly what you want, since you don’t learn. You see, all I have to do is be honest. All I have to do is note what they, themselves, plaster all over for all to see, what’s right out in the open. And the more I out them for what they surely are … the more assured it is that you will choose them...
A decade without love
And, when it finally comes, attack it with a knife
Find every excuse
You know you were wrong but ….
Double Down
Another year gone but ….
Triple Down …
Another year, but now you need a daddy
Searching for a wealthy, ugly, bigoted clown
Do everyone a favor and when you go out
Put your price on your forehead
One year down payment, rent to own
Burn yourself down
Like you burned him down
Down … Down … Down
They tell us we can forgive someone, and yet never have them in our lives again.
Never acknowledge any forgiveness in word or deed.
That is the basest sort of lie, the most cruel of selfish delusions.
For the ostracism itself is not forgiveness, but a cold killing of one who mattered in our hearts.
The silence is the death sentence, not forgiveness,
And it is a stain on our own souls when they did not deserve it.
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He'd loved her, but he'd messed up royally.
And he was sorry.
But she knew she had not been honest, and she'd pushed him.
But that didn't matter to her, none of it.
She wasn't sorry.
She chose to treat what she knew wasn't real as a death sentence.
All that mattered to her was her phony bullshit.
That made her bullshit incarnate.
And she would always be bullshit, with her bullshit values and...