Petite Thing

There’s a pattern that my mind has recognized: petite girls develop insecurity through their less than perfect sexuality, as a result they use deceptive tactics on desperate men to validate their sexuality. They ask you out, knowing you’ll come crawling—broken spine and contorted just to get to them. Ask them into your world (say, to

I Want to Run My Hand up Her Fish Net Covered Popliteal

The psyche is formed through assimilating physical compliments.  She was given less compliments than the other one.  Her soul was stronger.  The other one’s soul was abjectly unrousing to my platonic attraction of her.  Despite this, I feel more towards her.  Feel more, towards a vapid piece of flesh.  And the truly beautiful one: my

Arrogance and Entitlement: That Guy with Biceps the Size of Cantaloupes is the Same as Me

That body builder at Golds Gym with biceps the size of cantaloupes- that’s me.  Me, as an aggregate of all the things I do.  No one views me in that way.  I will never receive the reverential treatment that cantaloupe man does; this is because I have little to nothing to show for.  Nothing to

Fear and Loathing During a Blizzard in Iowa

Snow flying into the wind shield of a Chevy S10 like the millennium falcon taking off at light speed.  They were lost on a gravel road in the barren landscape of Iowa.  It was a winter wasteland outside; drifts obscuring everything, but twenty-five feet of visibility.  Inside the S10 was a consoling interior that felt

Scared and Sad 167 pound Man Singing the Blues

Beat down like a pitiful dog. In retrospect I wasn’t as lonely when I stayed home alone, read, wrote, and played guitar. I go out and socialize with the less precarious and confident selves. They seem genuine, even when talking about The Game. For me it feels pretentious to say hi how are you. Dancing

It Can Happen to You

It can happen to anyone.  You can be lifting weights and the ventilation system could crush you.  You can be at Target and see a hot trashy slut.  You can be at Walmart and see a classy woman wearing a skirt who watches Ingmar Bergman films.  You can approach a woman who wants to fuck

Served With a Side of Ego

You get yourself sold back to you today.  The lost generation: selling you shit is made easy when you’re pummeled by confusion, narcissism, and soul-homelessness.  Experience is obsolete in this world; being something is the current ideal to strive for.  Being for the sake of the disgusting self that believes it’s better than all the

Ron and a Hospice Chaplain

Life was straight forward to him.  If he knew what a paradigm was, his life would be marked by pleasure.  His hedonism wasn’t the least bit glorious; there were no jaunts, no benders, no adventures.  The life of Ron was a long-drawn-out ride.  Today, like any, he ordered pizza for delivery.  Despite his unstructured day,