Bent Words

Bent Words

December 04, 2014

I've cried all the tears I can cry today.

Like, literally, because I recently had LASIK done and now my eyes are dry and incapable of properly producing tears. Hopefully I'll get my Restasis back on once I get the Rx filled...

So I cried a total of about ten tears and now I'm done.

And now I feel kinda like I did back when I had a smooth talking boyfriend who somehow communicated his way out of several instances of infidelity and back into my easily bowled over graces. I feel like I've been sold a lemon by a quick thinking salesman instead of purchasing the apple that I really wanted. How ridiculous that I am 34 or 35 or however old I am and things like that can still happen. How ridiculous that I let them happen.

That I cannot quite place it -- how it happens, how I let it happen, where I went wrong -- that's what really bugs the piss outta me. Is it pure ignorance? Am I that distracted? Am I that untrained and unprepared? Or is that some people are just THAT slimy, that dedicated to the destruction of trust and reality -- that schooled in the practice of predation -- that I somehow fell victim to the deceit once again?

Am I that much of a fool to think that people have finally grown up, hoping that by now, after all these years, such blatant and idiotic degradations to another's character no longer exist? Just because I'm out of school that I'm also out of the social swimming pool full of sharks and eels ready to snap at whatever floating folly looks like a fucking meal?


Dumb that I shouldn't have my guard up. Dumb that I should have to have my guard up. Dumb that I let it get to me and bring it home with me and watch the feeding frenzy play over and over in my over-imaginative mind.

All you little bastard bullies out there... Go home. Go home and stay home and wither away in your own fowl nature and stop making miserable the genuine souls whose only goal is to make things good and go home themselves with their trust and love and goodwill intact so they can rest in peace knowing they've done their due diligence for the day. Throw rocks at the faces of those who have committed true atrocities -- not at those who have erred without dissolution or contempt.

Beat up on somebody your own shade of ugly.

For I am not a match.

Never have been, never will be.

I do not scheme or scandal, plunder and punch at the unfairness and fragility of the world. I seek to make it a hair brighter where I can, a pinch better than it was, an ounce more grateful than the sad sap behind me. And it's not easy. I agree. But it's also not worth it to litter your virulence about the place as though you own it.

Suck it up, Buttercup, and be a fucking man when what is needed is a man, not soul sucking cloud of gray, ever intent upon making those around him as miserable as he is.

You are the oppression you produce and will rise as high as you rise only to crash down in your consciousness. Eventually. And I will not dance on that grave. Mostly just out of fear you will infect me with that lack of integrity.

Mistakes made, fouls played, bad decisions regretted. But never have I sought out to hate and hurt and never have I not paid the exorbitant price of selfishness. It takes a special kind of person to do that without remorse, without pain, without expense. And I have known too many of you not to be more expectant, more wary, more cautious.

And in all seriousness, I revoke your pretended power over me to dictate how I proceed. You can keep killing spirits and baffling those who have given of their kindness but I will not succumb to such antagonizing behavior. I won't give it back, as much as I'd like to bat you swiftly in the head with a tire iron, I will not let you make me what you so sorrowfully have become in your meager existence. You're a sad sight, a poor example of what a person can and should be, a sore spot on the beauty the world holds.

Keep trying, honey, keep trying.

Manipulate, mutilate, mangle all you want.

Your backfire will come. Always does.

Written at 5:35 p.m.