Monday, February 25, 2008

and so my moldy dreams are debased by the hands that shaped them.

PREFACE: it's an angry fucking rant, that i had to put somewhere, and this benefits me in the way that i don't have to explain it to everyone i'm closest to that reads this.
i'm pretty sure she's full of shit, i've had a talk with someone she considers her good friend, and her friend backs up my original paranoid instincts. maybe i'm honed now, maybe it was a test of will. i still fall for it, not as easily, but i bit the hook, and i'm still holding on, waiting on something to really throw in her face. she's not rich, she's not coming back, there'll be no 360, i'm not fucking moving down there. all this does is put me back where i started, i'm not any happier or worse off. nothing a few days of binge drinking won't fix. i'm not losing anything but the time i already spent, which i do not regret, b/c let's face it, it was fun and the sex was great. i'm just tired of fucking running into liars, everywhere, it's like decent people exist in the very few and in between. i swear to god, soon i'm just gonna snap and start killing every fucking person who can't back up a god damn story with either sense or honesty. "can't lie b/c i feel too guilty" bullshit, i don't lie b/c i fucking hate when people lie to me. it makes me want to literally take my bare fucking hands and pry someone's jaw from their face...then they won't be able to talk anymore, then break every one of their god damned fingers so they can't fucking write lies. it seems like i struck gold in fucking bullshit. like a fucking oil mine of just shit, disease ridden shit. if that's not particulary enough, i get some dickface twat trying to wedge her way back into my life with more shit, saying she's still god damn in love with me, but will deny it to anyone else. i'm just trying to be nice here, but fuck it, give them an inch, they want your whole fucking life. that's it, i'm done. done with fucking around. dealing with idiots and liars and twats and whores. done sticking my neck out for people who can't prove themselves. i've proven myself enough to anyone. and my close friends won't talk shit about me, well...not things that aren't true. my character flaws are obvious, but i don't fucking lie to people. i may build my tall tales, but they're easy to see it's bullshit, and i'll admit when they are. i just keep getting further and further away from depressed and sad, and closer and closer to fucking psychotically angry, unleveledly spiteful. it's already gotten bad enough to the point where i heard bullshit even from people i know i can trust. the first thing i run to is disbelief...what the fuck kind of life is that to live? what the fuck kind of person does that make me? what if i actually meet someone that isn't full of shit? i'm still never gonna give them the benefit of the doubt, then i just turn out to be some cynical asshole, who in forty years will prolly be so warped that he thinks the C.I.A. is constantly in his shit and after him. this will be the root of it all, mark my fucking words. my detachment from reality is beginnig right here. and either it gets worse, or i'm just over reacting with this new situation, and she's being honest and she's not a fucking twat ass lying cunt rag. but it seems my instincts are on, my brain trust confirms my suspicion, and even a foreign correspondant has come from the shadows to further garuntee (with much reluctance, the reluctance being that there's some reprieve to her bullshit, like sometimes it's true b/c it's too unbelievable to believe) the prospective in which i wanted to deny b/c, man, wouldn't it be ideal and great to have such a fucking sweet life. someone lurks you out on myspace, you hit it off insanely well, you dance with the idea of changing your life for them, b/c it's only fair since they are planning to changes theirs for you. they're well off, you're not, but they want to shower you with affection the way your mother did, even though she was never really one to afford it. they want to spend loads of time with you, moving at a fast pace, and you don't fucking mind, hell, why waste time? you'll be dead before you know it anyway. someone who fills your head with sweet intangible ideas, says things that blow your scared little mind. push all the right buttons. massage your ego in ways you didn't know it could be pleased. literally ruins you on life. and all that (well, maybe not all of it completely, b/c i know things like my ass is awesome for a guy's ass, and i'm an amazing fucking linguist, ha ha) is on a shakey foundation that's well into it's crumbling stages. sinking ever so gently into the sea, so gently you can't even notice you're gonna drown. but then again, i could be wrong, this could be a rant from hell, with such a heated fury i'll find it hard to trust myself with any sort of emotion, lose my touch, and basically fall into a deep love and be compeletly immersed and happy while it lasts. maybe i see a reflection of how i used to be and it just pisses me off, b/c i was so inconsiderate of people.
the most fucked up thing of all this ranting and bullshit i'm going through...i hope she's full of shit. it'll be some sort of vindicating affirmation that i'm smart. that i'm on top of my shit. that love is bullshit, happiness is some fickle flighty shit idea, and i'm smarter to just say fuck it, and not trust a god damn soul...or mostly just people with xx chromosome pairs.
alright, i'm done, i've wasted close to twenty minutes venting.

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