thanks for thinking of me, because i thought naught about you- save , out in the desert, chewing on ' thank god your ilk is out of my life'. i'm not a hostile little troll who has nothing but contempt for other people who don't do what i will, see what i want them to. but, i've found, so often, that the narcissistic, the paranoid and the self -absorbed seem unable to define and understand those 3 words- it's part of the disease.
thanks for thinking about my penis ( and my gender or my lack thereof)- - it's never thought a second about you, in a biblical sense. a cored apple seems sexier and more interesting. a cored apple has more depth, more dimension- a better complexion- all in all a better fuck.
i don't like you because there is now clearly nothing to like. tsk tsk we're all not "submisive and female" , although clearly some are lapping up that role...
when one refuses to hate women, that means one's accused of hating men instead of just hating assholes who just happen to define themselves as genetically male and have vile prejudical opinions about females and about those who do not fit a socially accepted gender profile.
but , of course, this is all generated from second hand information , admittedly, because there's no way in fuck i find any of you interesting enough to actually read ... because there's plenty of wet t-shirt contests to go to without the drama and self- loathing associated with arrested development.
so glad people i thought actually cared about me could wish me dead- over nothing, really. why should anyone be emotionally open to people who are capable of such a morass of ill will and delusion?
i already have been made privvy to how i will die- afterall, we're thrust out over an open grave. but i know i love my Mother and Her incarnations on this earth-if i fall from the sky or if i'm stabbed in the side , it's into Her loving arms i fall.
"I have gone out, a possesed witch,
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil. i have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered. out of mind.
a woman like that is not a woman, quite.
i have been her kind." - anne sexton
" more woman than you'll ever get: more man than you'll ever be"- 'carwash'.