He had come to see her as beautiful based upon what he’d thought he’d found in her heart. But what he had thought he’d found did not exist, only a figment of his imagination, a con she was running on him. She was cruel and selfish, but she pretended otherwise. Though she still owed him a debt she would never pay, when he thought about her now, saw her face in his mind, he did not see a beautiful woman, a beautiful face, but a face distorted by a bad heart, a face that had always borne some...
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If the deadness, the sociopathy, of his eyes, phoniness of his smile, the vile, frat boy vibe, and the grotesqueness of his physical ugliness did not make her recoil, and, if the thought of his touch, did not make her physically nauseated, than her greed knew no limits, for he offered nothing else but money.
If she could give herself to this man, even befriend him, then she was a slave to illusion, to status, and to wealth. Love meant nothing to her. Loyalty lay miles from her mind, as he...
There are monsters among us,
And they always win.
For they have no morals to distract them,
To make them second-guess their solipsism, their wicked desires.
The herd sees them succeed and, so, blindly follows their lead,
Though their very existence harms us all.
They are our neighbors, our relatives, smiling faces in daily life,
But under their superficial personas lurks deviancy, hatred, the urge to see others fail.
They pursue the worst of endeavors for their own ends,
And pretend it is...
Celebrating, they know not what for,
Some ghost of something in the past, nothing more.
For the freedom they laud does not exist anymore,
And they are oblivious to what lies in store.
And they are the ones who sold it out,
Believing themselves to be the “real” ones, they shout,
Putting on a show to prove their allegiance,
To what they do not know. They know not the law and have no sense.
For they pay attention only to their own bigotry,
And in that they prove their disloyalty,
To what they...
Refusing to stop, until the worst of the worst was found,
She had finally succeeded.
180 turn from vulgar, fraudulent lout to full sociopath,
A man who didn’t really know how to be human,
Which was no turn at all.
Confusing apathy for seriousness,
Psychological abuse would abound.
He was bolstered by those who excused his behavior as something else,
Creating a great guy where none existed,
As she always did.
The only one who seemed to care had seen it before,
Fascination with position...
She could run; she could hide.
She could tear the truth apart inside.
She could cry; she could lie.
She could refuse to ever ask herself why.
She could haw; she could hem.
She could run around with her legs open.
She could play prude; she could be rude.
She could cop her little attitude.
She could scream; she could shout.
She could sit around and pout.
She could be false; she could be phony.
She could sell her soul for money.
She could be alone; she could atone.
She could move and she could leave...
Hedley Mullins was a certified piece of dog shit. That was the ruling of the court of objectivity. But it must be asked how that ruling could be reached so soundly without having access to Hedley’s mind. Though the growing stable of women he kept was a perfect indicator, the answer was not in Hedley’s actions. The proof lay with Kayla Schumacher.
Kayla Schumacher was an emotional mess of a woman, so much so that it could be read upon her face. Her emotional trauma ran so deeply that she was...
Holidays, used to ramp up pressure.
No respect, just a playboy’s heist.
Taking advantage of the zeitgeist,
Confusing the emotions to build a seeming bond.
He would push the pedal down, wanting his way,
Too fast, pushing the gas,
Because that’s what one does if one’s an ass.
Have to cement the control,
Use her loss, use the timing,
No emotion, just a challenge climbing.
Appeals to family and fun,
Obscuring the ulterior motives.
Forced, submissive, done.
And if it didn’t work his way,
She’d be...
“He’s so into me.”
“How do you know?”
“He only talks to me and isn’t seeing anyone else.”
“Oh.”
“What?”
“Well, from this view of his profile, from an account that isn’t connected to him or his friends, or you, so it can’t mess up the algorithm, these are his top friends … the ones at the top of his full friends list.”
“So?”
“They’re the people he interacts with the most, and he isn’t commenting or liking their posts … so he’s talking to them or looking at them all the time … and they’re all...
She runs to him when hurt,
With cavalier mockery and condemnation of the only one who can stab her so,
When inside she dies, cutting her own life short,
By her denial and his attention she seeks in show.
And that is how she seals her fate,
As to whom she runs is an inveterate ass,
It’s simply not up for debate,
His whole life is built upon greed, everything crass.
He takes her side, makes her feel wanted,
Cuts down the other like a frat boy,
Makes her feel that she is his,
When she is just a...
Two years gone and pain remains as strong as the first day,
Not just for him, and this is known is spades, though denied by one.
As if it had been left alone the whole time it would have spoken volumes,
But it was not, not left in the past by either,
And the silent contact speaks more than oceans.
This is the way it is,
The way it will be,
Three years, four, forever more.
The only difference being that he accepts it as reality, accepts the pain as part of him, accepts his guilt,
While she...
We leave this world with only what we came into it,
Save the loves known and the scars upon our soul.
So waste not the time you have on trifles,
On vanity, on wealth.
And woe to you who weave deceit,
Leaving a legacy of lies and love rejected,
Of cruelty and false face.
For nothing gained in dishonesty will have substance,
Nor can it be kept,
And it will turn the soul a dreadful black,
In the end to be scattered in the darkness of the empty
No love of god to save you.
Does the new one know that, when alone, your mind wanders somewhere else,
As your fingertips do trace, along your flesh they skim,
Does he know the face who your mind conjures is not him?
Are you aware that when you are gone, he thinks not of you,
But of others he would rather possess, for his words they are not true?
The one you cast aside in shame, was only desperate for your love,
You were magical to him for a time, a supple comely dove.
And he had settled for a friend, though his want for...
Hedley Mullins was a suit, by which was meant that he was executive class, though, out of it, one would never be able to tell by the low character of his expressed genes that he was anything more than a criminal or a chimney sweep. His face wore the ugliness of low lineage, but, somewhere along the line, one of his relatives had stumbled upon some lucrative con, which had, eventually, put Hedley in a position of enough privilege to leverage. He had risen up the ranks of his corporation, as...
When we are alone and as we grow older, the allure of finding someone can become desperation, and we begin to confuse the opportunity of availability with something meaningful. But it is not. We romanticize the idea of the relationship and project it onto the person who kindles nothing in our hearts, attaching holidays and losses to their presence.. While the prospect of someone to share life with, someone to take care of us, yearns within us, we do not need them. We have done without that on...
(Art by Malena Grimm)
It was beyond ridiculous. For two years, TWO YEARS, she had been watching him, having him watched. Two years. She knew damn well he wasn't doing anything or going to do anything, though that was likely the excuse she gave to her cohorts. No, that was ridiculous. She did it because she couldn't let him go. And she couldn't let him go because she knew she had made a giant fucking mistake. She had every opportunity to let go. She had been told not to read him if she didn't...
A life geared to the pursuit of wealth,
Literally defined by money,
Is one that exposes the corruption of a soul,
The greedy, grasping child inside.
For all the facade of geniality and caring,
There is no saving grace in one who follows this path.
They consciously chose what they are, and were likely that all along.
But the soul that is worse is the one that sees these avaricious bottom feeders as worthwhile,
As accomplished and desirous, as authentic and sincere.
There is no authenticity to...
He did not long for his last breath because he could not have her, because he felt below her. He was not. Morally he was far above her, as he could accept his guilt while she shunned her own. But he felt an unconquerable emptiness, because he did not want to share a world with people like her. Those she had sicced upon him had accepted her fairy tale without question, when they had been required to look into it. They did not. They’d judged him out of hand. They’d even covered up for her and...
All he had wanted was her love, but it was not to be his. And the flower he had thought he'd found turned to poisonous thorns in his hands. He wished it had been different, but wishes are the useless hopes of what one knows cannot exist. All he desired now, unable to alter the world, unable to alter her heart and mind, was a part of her to keep, to replace the heinous time they had not needed to create, and they had both created it. Her mind and heart lost to him, he sought only something...
We are a flicker in time.
All we have to know we exist is connection,
Recognition by others.
And when those connections are not real,
When they are pretended by false hearts,
Everything becomes an eddy of relativism.
Our place in the paradigm we thought we knew can fall away in a moment.
As we can never know the truth in others’ hearts,
The judgments in their minds,
Our existence is always tentative,
Our identity controlled by perception.