as I sit to write this story I am sweating. my head is spinning. I am clammy. cold. hot. claustrophobic. I don’t like the white backdrop but I do not know how to change it. I preferred blogger but everyone tells me that I need to be on wordpress. I do not know why. is this the same thing as the shittiest beers being the most popular? the shittiest fast food restaurants being the most popular? the shittiest movies being the most popular? and the shittiest music being the most popular? I listen to too many people giving too many opinions on my life and yet I ask for the opinions. not grounded. sweating still. mind racing still. heat flashes. then cold. I take a sip of my wine and continue even though I have nothing to say. nothing to do. stuck in the basement with nothing to write. nothing to say. the fire that I had earlier has subsided amidst shitty television and a shitty brain.
I continue to write with nothing to say.
I think of my Mom.
sweating.
cold.
I look at the mess in the basement but that bores me. I hear the television and that bores me too. I take another sip of wine hoping for inspiration but nothing comes. I pause. I think. I sweat. I am cold. both wrists in pain. balding. lost. always lost. always bald. only the good die young? I am looking for answers but answers never come.
back to the drawing board. another sip of wine. maybe I need music. angry music. sad music. classical music. music. music that makes me feel not think. too many thoughts and not enough clarity. a never ending battle with my brain. my wife. my daughter. myself. will the confusion end? ever? will I be “normal” ever? and what is normal? who is normal? are normal people happy? most normal people I know are sad on the inside but pathetically happy on the outside. a refusal to look in the mirror as they cry their way to retirement. to their pension. to their deathbed. a refusal to change for anyone. a rock. a brick. a wall. FUCK THE TRUMP WALL. THERE ARE PROTECTIVE WALLS EVERYWHERE. SOLID ROCKS ON THE OUTSIDE AND SAD AND PATHETIC NOTHINGS ON THE INSIDE. NO HEART. NO SOUL. what makes you tick? find out what makes you tick and then TICK. TICK AND THEN TOCK. TICK AND THEN TOCK. TICK TOCK. TICK. TOCK…TOCK.
#metoo has spiralled out of control by needy emotional sheep wanting to get back at men for being fucked over by them but NOT raped by them. we must know the difference. and in my humble but not so humble opinion I believe that the fight should be against the elites and NOT men. it is the elites that have abused their power and raped or taken advantage of women. and it is the elites that have gotten away with this for years. the poor have been wrongfully accused of rape and sexual assaults and other crimes for years and had ZERO opportunity to defend themselves. the #metoo fight is the same as the fight for equality with minorities. do NOT lump all white men as your enemy as this does nothing to help your cause. I want equality and I am a white man. I am on your side. I despise the old rich white man who looks down on everyone but his trophy wife and old white best friend. FUCK THEM. FUCK THEM ALL. FIGHT THE POWER BUT KNOW WHAT POWER YOU ARE FIGHTING.
by the way…I was molested too (#metoo). an old white man. I could have stopped him but I didn’t. I don’t know why. I just didn’t. my reaction to being molested was to fight. fight and drink. fight and drink and then fight and drink some more. then fuck. fuck and fuck and fuck. fuck everyone and everything. reckless. lost. angry. hurt. sad. still lost. still sad. still trying to recover. my life is my life. I am NOT a social justice warrior who comes from a wealthy home with wealthy struggles and wealthy friends. I AM A SURVIVOR. A SURVIVOR WHO CONTINUES TO STRUGGLE BUT CONTINUES TO FIGHT. I REFUSE TO LET THE PHONY PEASANTS WIN. FUCK THEM. FUCK THEM ALL. THE MOST DISGUSTING QUALITY A HUMAN BEING CAN HAVE IS TO BE PHONY. SICKENING.
my glass of wine is empty and my mind continues to be empty. it is filled with thoughts but empty on clarity.
my heart is alive but broken.
I continue to sweat.
nothingness.
sore.
hot.
Namaste.
notanotherphony. 