Wednesday, October 13, 2004

there's no business like show business

...or so i hear.

Sometimes I worry that I've lost the ability to love anyone but myself.
and then I worry that this site just exacerbates that problem...
but then I get preoccupied by the word "exacerbate"
because it sounds so much like masturbate!!
i never claimed to be mature...

does anyone remember National Novel Writing Month?
it's coming right up--
November 1st is the starting point.
it is the single greatest activity for anyone who loves to write.
particularly my fellow procrastinators out there...
i completed the 50,000 words the first year i did it, but not last year.
i just couldn't get into it.
i'm going to try again this year, and you all should do the same!!

i don't have much to say today.
maybe it's cuz i'm dying to get into the shower.
no, not like that ya pervs.
...although, on second thought...
hahaha.

i've been asked to do a guest post, on one of my FAVORITE blogs...
and i'm really excited to do it.
i don't think i've ever done a guest post before...
but, along with the excitment comes nervousness.
it's totally different, to write on someone else's little space.
here?
i don't give a flying fuck what i say.
it just rolls out and i leave it to rot in the sun.
but when someone else's reputation is at stake...
PRESSURE.
so.
i'll probably do what any good writer would do--
and post boobie pics.
only, it's a guy's site.
and 99% of his readers are women.
i better stop thinking about it, and just do it.
i work much better without thinking.
hahaha.
does it show??

okay, since it seems that not enough people read my little story from Sunday...
i'm going to repost it.
i'm just excited that i wrote something non-pornographicalistic.
although, that reminds me: i do have a great fantasy in the works...

once upon a time,
there was a man.
he was so black on the inside that his pale skin looked gray.
most of the time, he was evil in small ways--
like not tipping a waitress, or sneezing into his hands before beginning a dental exam.
yes, he was a dentist.
this had been the first step toward the dark side.
he was a sweet kid, all through college.
but something twisted inside him when he got rejected from 72 different med schools in a year.
he began drinking, and he faked back pain so he could get some prescription pain pills.
while on these cloudy, wallowing "highs" (which would better be called "lows")
he would sketch out scenes of armageddon, with a black felt tipped pen.
he would chain smoke and jerk off--angrily, and while looking at increasingly disturbing images.
by the end of that dark period, he was cumming to video shot of war-time torture and massacres.
one day, during all of this self-loathing and self-abuse his mom called.
he didn't answer the phone--never did anymore.
but she left a message.
and her voice floated eerily through his drug-induced haze,
just like an angel, he would later think.
she mentioned dental school.
he was stubbing out a cigarette, on the inside of his wrist, when he heard those words.
it was like an electric shock.
he walked to the shower and got in.
and he stood there until the water was cold and he was sober.
he finished applying to the closest dental school that very same week,
and was top in his class every year.
he was still a little odd...
no one liked him much.
and this...
this contributed to the rotting away of his insides.
he opened a practice and did everything right--
he was an efficient, confident dentist.
he was polite and calm.
he never thought about those dark months he had spent in the small apartment suffocated by enough hate to fill a football stadium.
it was almost as if it had never happened...
but he was aware of it,
he just didn't judge himself for it--
he didn't think it was wrong, so he didn't worry about whether or not he might have a relapse.
well...
he should have.
somehow he conducted a lovely courtship with one of the receptionists from the optometrist next door.
she loved him.
they got married.
she still said she loved him.
but.
one day he walked in on her, taking on 3 guys at the same time--
one cock in each orafice.
he simply blinked, turned around, and walked out.
he called a moving company, and they removed her personal items.
he went to work the next day, without so much as a hair out of place.
he never spoke of her again.
but...
he resumed smoking.
and his only ashtry was his body.
he had little black dots covering himself...
sometimes he would hold the lighter to his chest until the hair burned off.
sometimes he would take an exacto knife and write words in his thigh.
but the worst of it...
was when he would tell himself he deserved to get laid.
he would toss back a couple of pills, and call an escort service.
...soon he ran out of escort services he could call and had to cruise the part of town where women walked the street.
it wasn't the sex that frightened these women.
it was the "porn" he had playing...
it was the look in his eyes, the scars on his body.
...the way his hands shook when putting on the condom.
they didn't know he was poking small holes in them first.
they always left crying, often leaving behind a shoe in their haste.
and when they turned up pregnant, most of them had a gut feeling it was him--
and ran to the abortion clinic.
on other days he spread his evil in smaller ways.
but it became a constant--
in any situation, he made the worst choice.
he hurt people in small but deep ways--leavingn lasting marks.
he was like a cancer eating away the world around him.
one day, he saw a crying child on the far side of a busy street.
he was pressed forward, hoping to snatch the child before anyone else noticed.
in his haste...
he stepped in front of a bus.

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