Thursday, May 30, 2013

Word Hoard 2013

"Get your shit together" was the comment left by some asshole on a social network. And what shit is that, Mr. Man? As the Internet meme goes You don't know me. You don't know my life. I only reveal ten percent on that fucking page. The rest is fucking and madness soaked in shame. Shame that I try to hide. But is utterly impossible in this day and age of Big Brother always watching always listening. For four years - four years after twenty of aimlessly wandering hither and yon - I lived like you motherfuckers wanted. And it drove me mad. What came of it? Depression and five published novels depicting the coldness within. Old hobo hacks up blood and phlegm as I attempt to relate this journey, but he don't care. No one cares. And to tell you the truth neither do I. Except maybe a sole doctor who is nuttier than squirrel shit as it is. "Get the fuck out of Dodge!", he commands. So I do. I wanted to retire in Puerto Rico but I go the other way to Tucson with a brief stop in Mexico for some ass and booze. Gotta calm the nerves, you understand. And nothing is more calming than a cock up your ass, right. So, I fall in Tucson and get really fucked. Not by a boy this time, but from my old arch enemy Fate. Fucking bitch. Always out to get me. So, staying true to form, I swallow my pride and live amongst the homeless population scribbling out notes for another novel no one will ever read and am awarded another hand in becoming stable and responsible like you. Ugh. makes me want to vomit just thinking about it. But, I have an ulterior motive. Fate wasn't looking...shh! Don't say anything, don't look. That nosey bitch is just waiting for an excuse to fuck with me...what i am going to do is stay in this housing program designed for a bunch of retards following the American Dream. I will nod. I will smile. I will jump when told. All the while I will save my money and use it to jet off to the Isle of Enchantment. Fuck all you naysayers. I do what I want, go were I want. You are powerless to stop me. Old queen squeals hatred at me already here because I befriended his boy. I don't care. He is only to wile away the days. His only purpose is to fill a hole, you understand. hehehe. Oh, but I forget, you don't understand. What's your fucking problem, anyway? You stupid or something? It's very logical what I am doing. Why is it crazy? So, as I was saying, biding my time, trudging around in one hundred degree weather past construction workers and tweekers and crack heads and howling fat bitches spitting out black babies like a baseball machine. I even turned the fag off in me. various street hustlers prowl around me like aroused Tom Cats but I have no time for their diseases and bullshit. I have a plan! A plan I will not deviate from this go around. Ha! If i know me at all - which I don't - I'll most likely wind up in a ditch somewhere babbling to a cactus about the finer points of the beat generation. At least I'll get my free donuts and coffee handed out every morning by the grinning preacher. Swell fella. Speaking of changing the subject, I am up for an evaluation soon by the prestigious Dr. Ahmed Taylor. based on the real wingdingers I have encountered on the street since my arrival to this burg, I am certain he will deem me sane and it's back to the sweat shops I go. Vacation over. Time to go home. And all I got to show for it was a stupid t-shirt - bedbugs and all. "Hey, ya got any spice?" The teenage girl croaks as the sun is raising it's lazy ass over the horizon. It seems everyone is a junkie nowadays. But do you blame them? Do you? I don't. It's a mad world and a sad one at that. To keep me grounded I meet a young blond fella, short but with a big and willing cock. The only problem is he never shuts up. Talks worse than those women folk. Sulky, too. I guess I don't like him, either. Bothersome little shit. But, I like his long Irish cock, so that's something right? A real ceiling squirter that one. He states that I give the best head he ever had. he should. I've seen a photograph of the fat bitch he is dating. Or sort of dating. She's in Oklahoma now taking truck driving classes. Going to be a man hating bull dyke before the training is done. So he better learn the way of the queer and quick if he's going to get anywhere in life. Well, the good thing is I finally do move into my apartment on the 3rd of June. Old derelicts and crazy ass fat men swarm around the smoking tables of the patio bumming cigarettes from bums and bitching that they have it so bad. I've seen poverty! I've lived utter disillusion! Don't whine to me, you fucking pampered American. You don't know pain and sorrow. Not the real thing, anyway. Just a faded cut out of it. The conversations of this downtown joint I reside in at the moment is a real bore. They all talk of the same thing: Jail and dope, dope and jail. Shut the fuck up already! There is an entire world out there - go see it! But they won't. They - or us - excuse me - are too fat, lazy, and ignorant to step out of our comfort zones. Shit. Ain't that something. What a sad thing not to experience all the wonders of life. To be content with just your cellphone, ipad, and a pack of rollies. Why won't a goddamn asteroid just go ahead and smash into this planet already and end all this suffering? Nah, too easy. Can't always have it your way, I reckon. So, I sit and I wait - sipping delicious coffee served in a big ass beer mug at the 24 hr coffee shop I found and continue posting stale jokes and gags on facebook because those arrogant assholes don't care about nothing else. Really should delete that thing, I have grown beyond bored with it. It's all part of the programmed control system set up by this wonderful Police State that we are mired in. Ho-hum. I know when the revolution finally does arrive, I'll be one of the first lined up against the wall and shot. A man can have dreams, can't he? Old dog sniffs through a pile of garbage and shit as his master lays on the grimy sidewalk. People stroll buy and do not notice. Too busy text messaging and checking status updates. That person is me. I am somewhat out of the loop - I am one of those colorless phantoms you see shuffling down the street toting back pack, duffel bag, trash bag or pushing a shopping cart. It is the only way you can be truly free in this country. Unfortunately, I have a shackle. An old ball and chain. It is preventing me from departing this great nation once and for all. Well, not really stopping me - we have that one thing in common. Fear of change. I have the fear in me, I will admit. It has kept my hand for the past four years. Kept me from really doing what I want. A train moans in the distance and I just want to jump on it. But, the day of the free hobo is extinct. Sorry Jack K., you did it all for nothing. So, my present assignment is to wait. Wait until the time is right. Then I will make my move. Until that time, just bare with me.
Then again, I could just be talking crazy... 

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