And you think that you are my friend?

God, what planet are you on? No shit! Every friend that I have that isn’t you is just a major asshole. Lisa said that? Are you sure? I don’t remember that. After all that went down during that week I can’t believe that’s the only thing you held on to. And if she said that I really have the feeling that it was a joke. Lisa is big and knows it. But no, you wouldn’t take it that way. Like you met Steve. Two seconds of, “Hi, hi” through the kitchen and livingroom but you have this idea that “he only likes to hang out with one person” and he trashed you over a total joke about your truck. Yeah, all the people I like, except you, are massive assholes.

How fucked is my judgement that you are the only WORTHY person I like? Sure, that’s how bad my judgement is. Sure, I like YOU but everyone else I like is so fucked up they aren’t worth my butt wipe. Oh, okay. Thanks. At least YOU are okay. I was getting worried there for a moment.

And then there’s all the folks YOU brought into my home when I wasn’t here. Did you ever bring them by when I was here? Well, fuck NO! I go to some bar with you and get called the book woman or the cat woman. You never brought these men by when I was home. How… interesting. Did you fear their reaction or my own or yours? Would they like me more than you or did it go deeper than that? You didn’t want to share them with me because they might be more into me than you?
Sad, sick and ultimately lame. You fucked me over twice on that deal. Hell, you fucked me nine ways to Sunday but I never said shit even when I had a mouthful. I let it go. I let it go because I trusted you, loved you, and felt that you would never hurt me. I just don’t feel that anymore.

Fantastic sunrise! That’s what Steve told me. I didn’t get to sleep until 5:30… insomnia rears it’s ugly head. But Steve saw that same sunrise and marveled over it to me. Is he still an asshole for you? God, I hope not. But then again, with you, I know somehow you can put a slam on him for it. You really don’t like anyone else in my life, do you? Christopher still sucks over that supposed nasty comment he made. I still don’t think he was out of line; he just wanted to know when he could have his room back. Why do you still think his comment was mean or unreasonable? I don’t, didn’t, still think that he had a right to ask, “hey, just when are you guys going to be out of my room?” Haven’t you given up your room to company? I think Chris was justified.

No, I haven’t liked how Chris and Cynthia have treated me or you. But at least they have been honest, consistent and fair. Why do you still, STILL, hold that against him? It’s been a long time and I STILL think he was justified. I really think you are just unfair and too critical. But hell, all my friends are shit, but for you, so what do I know?

Everyone I like, besides you, is just a massive buttmunch. How fucking fair is that? I’ve met very few of your friends, outside me, and I’ve always given them the benefit of the doubt. I ask, talk, try to be a part. Not like you’ve given me much choice: you don’t want me around your other friends. The few I’ve met are soon gone; you really don’t want me to interact with them!

I don’t know if you are embarrassed of me, or them, or yourself. Whatever, I’m okay with that. But I’ll be damned all the way into hell for you to fuck over the other people in my life. Lisa and her daughter Megan are kind, sweet, honest and dear to me. Steve has his bad points but he’s honest and straight with me. When Lisa or Steve tells me they will do something, they don’t fuck me around; they will do what they say. If I ask them to watch my dog, the house, whatever, I know, they will do it. They don’t fuck with me. You have. You fucked me over big time last year. I trust them a hell of a lot more than I do you. It just strikes me as strange that you hate them so much when I trust them so much more than you. I guess it isn’t hard for me to understand why I trust them more than you; they’ve come through for me more times than you. You’ve fucked me over so hard and so deep that I still have scares.

Yeah, whatever. You want to do that shit for your boss then that’s your shit, not mine. You think that’s fair… fine. Go for it. I think it’s shit. But, hey, that’s just me and my bag.

At this moment I don’t know what’s going on with my dad. He came here, used me, and has now decided to share this info with ERIC. I’m out of the loop. I guess sometimes money pays off. As far as that goes, I’m fucked: I help, bend over backwards, but I’m still the last to know. How fucked is that? Bitter? Shit, yes! I help, park, do what I can do and STILL Eric and All know before me.

God help me but sometimes, you treat me the same way. And I’m sick to death of it. You are my friend but then again, you aren’t. Why don’t you just give me a heads up: If I like someone else besides you, I’m fucked. But if I like only you, you’ll fuck me over.

Shit howdy! Why can’t you at least be clear with me on that!

How about I just bend out in neon, SUCKER, over my head. That’s me. Because no matter how badly my father treats me I will still help him. I guess you could do the same. No matter how badly you treat me, I’d still call you “Friend” and hold your hand. I just wish you weren’t so damn particular about returning the favor.

I’m sorry, I really feel I’m taking a lot out here on you but I really don’t think what’s been going down in the last year is fair.

I’ve busted my hump to be with you, your friend. I’ve given you meals, a place to rest, a warm spot… what have you done for me? I’ve been so fucked, so hard that my eyes hurt. I love, and care and minister… what is coming back to me?

I just feel that I can’t like anyone but you. But you won’t ever help. Unless it’s convent for you. I’ve helped you on so many occasions that weren’t convenient for me that my head spins. But what have you done for me? Shit. And more shit. You won’t do shit unless you get something in return.

I have nothing left to give. I’m spent, done, finished. Fuck you. And I really mean that. I’ve done so much for you and everyone else. Fuck you. I’m done.


Oh, hey, this is a very singular post to the supposed friend who is stalking me here. You KNOW I mean you. You want to post, do so… otherwise this will float to the bottom. And I’ll still know you were here. You stalk me everywhere else, this is no different. Tapping my phone, running my e-mail. Shit, why don’t you just live my life?

Moved to the pit, for obvious reasons.

Saint Eutychus

I’m so confused…

O p a l C a t

Byz: How many times have you seen “Fight Club”?