Uneaten meals and unfucked hookers.

So kiddilywinks, how the hell are we all today? It's rainy outside which is just perfect because I feel like laying my emotional smack down.
So here goes.
I sat across from her on the weekend and she told me one of the worst things that I had ever heard in my life. I couldn’t eat my meal and it was only through extreme self control did I not cry in front of her. I cried on the stupid tram though and at work and later at home as I tried to get ready for a party. I felt like I was in a movie being shot in slow motion and everyone around me was filmed at high speed. I cooked a beautiful steak and in my mouth it felt like putty, I ended up just cutting it into large chunks and swallowing them hole. Eat like a snake. I stared and I stared and I stared, at nothing. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I didn’t even notice how broken I looked.

I feel as pathetic now I as I did sitting across from her in my nice shirt. Out of place and out of time. Nothing to say, hardly anything to think. Only empty words and phrases to push across the table at her. We are not the kind of friends that hug but I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and contain her. I wanted her to beat my breast, tear my heart out, leave me cold and lonely, I wanted to feel these things so that she didn’t have to. If emotions were a fire I would wrap her in a blanket and cover her as I turned my back to the flames that sear me. I would wear a badge of scars so that she could come out as pink and as fresh as a new born.

This is pathetic of me. You know I never even met the guy and I doubt that I could even tell you his name. All I know is he made her happier than I’ve ever seen her and now makes her so sad that its putting me off my food.

On a lighter note, I seriously considering paying for sex. I'm thinking about taking the plunge. Me, a man who likes to experience everything at least once, has decided that perhaps there are some experiences still not experienced, that if I am indeed going to tick things off my "Done/Not done" list then I'd better start now. The list itself has about 7 items on it and i reckon about 4 of those could be taken care of all within the hooker incident. So it's primarily a sexual list. A menu for my voracious appetite. Price list included. I wonder what wine goes best with a ho's asshole. A cab sav, perhaps a pinot. I'd say the thing that goes best with a prostitute would be coke, ya-yo, Brazilian marching powder. Its like an adult version of apple pie and ice-cream (which i had the other night and was excellent but no where near as good as sex), these things just go you know? Peaches and cream, whores and toot, Smith st and meth. Somethings just belong together.

So I have this guy that comes around to my store and cleans my windows. He's boring. Like super boring. He'll be in here for anywhere up to TWO HOURS talking about himself. Then he talks customers out of buying things. WTF? I mean, seriously? Today he came in and he was talking about making a roast. He then proceeded to name every vegetable that could be roasted, but making sure that he paused between each name. Potato. Onion. Pumpkin. Carrot. Parsnip (that one was actually me because I didn't want him to get all the screen time. And he told me, "no one roasts parsnip"). Garlic. Squash. And on. And on. And on. I actually said to him, "You're not going to name all of them are you?" and he smiled, and kept naming. How many times do you have to walk off on somebody and start talking to someone else before they get the message? Maybe he will help me to lose weight. Follow me around with his stupid head leaking stupid noises that I stopped listening to ages ago. Stupid.

I am a caged beast and you will lose a finger.

You know boxers, those guys that go out and hit each other in front of crowds, you know, the sportsmen not the underwear, have you ever seen how before a fight they pace up and down and throw their shoulders, how they toss their heads and jump up and down, keep themselves primed and ready for the fight. Do they ever look like animals to you, did you ever see one and think that he was loose and that soon someone would come back and put him in his cage?

I feel like that now. I keep pacing up and down, my shoulders involuntarily hunch as if i am about to throw punches at invisible robots. I feel like i could put my fist through this monitor here in front of me and it wouldn't even phase me. I reckon i could tear the head of a lion if only to suck at its blood, i feel like i could take a man apart with my bare hands just for something to do. I feel like I want to have my knee in someones back and their arm in my hands and slowly, with the patience and inevitability of an iceberg, slowly twist it up and over their shoulder blades until i hear it crack. Treasure that moment where bone starts to splinter and when the screams are involuntary.

I am man with a few issues at the moment but none of them are mine. I am a holding tank for injustices served upon others. I am a fire hose of rage left unattended to flail everywhere, spraying hate all over everything, dousing it all with loathing. I am an animal in the dark, waiting, all my muscles tense as i prepare to leap upon you. My teeth will gouge your throat and my claws will rake your liver, i will howl at the moon and all my hair will bristle.

Apparently a friend of mine was raped a little while ago and she told me today that now she sees all penis' as weapons. From what i can gather, some men took advantage of her while she was drunk and you know, I have been too afraid to ask exactly what happened in case she actually tells me. I couldn't tell you why but it has made me so amazingly mad that even writing this i am resisting the urge to pick up the key board and smash it against the monitor. I have a thousand yard stare yet i can hardly see past my own fury. I am blind with it.

I remember having this "how did you lose your virginity?" conversation with a group of girls and two of them said that they didn't lose theirs, it was taken, and i remember thinking, "Geez, I wish i were dead". Doesn't make sense you say? Alright smartarse, you tell me the appropriate response.

Shitty day.

Today I am fucking tired and over it all. I feel like writing huge slabs of self obsessed pity me text, only i couldn't be bothered even with that. Today I am totally pissed off and completely frustrated. All I want is to eat and fuck and sleep and not actually have to talk to anyone while all of this is going on. All i do is serve attractive women with great bodies and its killing me. Right now i have two girls who could be twins in my store in increasing states of undress, they walk from change room to change room as freely as they would from their bathroom to bedroom. I am so goddamn happy i could kill myself. Ha ha, just kidding. I am much more the sort of person that will internalise all of his issues and then get a very sudden and extremely aggressive form of cancer that i will not even bother to fight so within a year it won't matter anyway.

Whew, awesome, I am so totally motivated to write something incredible, but this is not it. I have been trying to write a rape story for about 3 weeks now and, much like everything else, its killing me. I have the set up, i have the characters, but writing the act, wow, its not easy. I thought i had a really good reason for doing this but now it just seems trivial. I thought perhaps that i might get to really push myself into thinking or feeling in a certain way and that in turn would allow me to let some things go but all i'm finding is that i grit my teeth all the time and I now walk with clenched fists. Maybe i need to get into a fight.

I've been watching a lot of C.O.P.S. Meaning I've been watching a lot of white men brutalise a lot of black men. I am unsure how i feel about this. Sometimes its funny in a 'aw that crack-head is pathetic' kind of way but mostly its black men running from white men intent on brutalising them. It has its advantages ie i can run through the whole gamut of human emotions in half an hour but it has its disadvantages ie it makes me want go to America, get a gun, walk into a mall and start blasting. Ha ha, just kidding, I am much more the sort of person that goes on a 'ghetto tour' and has the pleasure of watching whichever particular female friend he is with at that moment get raped at gun point.

Oh for fucks sake.