The Spiral

So I'm pissed.

My wife and I were trying to buy a house so that we could start spending our money for us, rather than for our landlord, and so that when we go back to court, Pencil Dick can't say that we shouldn't have custody of the boys because we're in the wrong school district-- because we will be in the right school district.

So we found a lender. And we told him all about our credit history. I have bad credit, including defaulting on a student loan. My wife doesn't have any credit. And he did all the stuff that lenders do, and told us we were approved for a certain amount of money. My wife and I were ecstatic. Then we found another lender, who offered us a better deal, and we went with her. And then we find a house. And we like the house. And it's great for us. And it's in the right school district. And there isn't a busy street in the backyard. And the boys see it, and they like it. And we make peace with not living in our current house forever. And then we made an offer on the house. And it was accepted! And our realtor was happy and we were happy, and we signed the document saying that we were entering into a contract to purchase the home. And then we got a loan from the bank for moving our stuff and they put it directly into our account. And things are going about as well as can be expected.

And then...

Just today, the bank contacts my wife and tells her that they need to have me sign something. Seems there's some kind of default, they say, on a student loan that they didn't know about. Didn't know about?? We told them up front! We got this far, and now I feel like it's all falling apart.

And I feel stupid for having a student loan in the first place. And I feel stupid for defaulting on my student loan. And I start reliving all the humiliation and remorse that I had when I first discovered that I couldn't pay back the student loan like I thought I would be able to. And I feel even more humiliated because now it's become public. I trusted my wife with my embarrassing financial secret, and she married me anyway. But now bank people-- strangers-- will know that I'm a horrible person.

And they aren't going to loan us the money.
And then we won't get the house.
And then Pencil Dick will tell the Judge that we shouldn't be granted custody of the boys.
And the Judge will agree.
And it will come up in court that I have defaulted on my student loan.
And Pencil Dick will make fun of me about it, and it will hurt.
And the Judge will laugh.
And the opposing counsel will snicker a smug snicker.
And my wife will be tortured over the loss of her boys.
And I will hate myself.
And she will leave me.
And I will deserve it all because I defaulted on my student loan.
And there isn't anyone in the world as absolutely horrible as me.
Hitler will look like a box of kittens compared to me.
And I'll cry a lot.
And no one will care.
And I suck.

And then the tears will end, at some point.
And I'll get hungry.
And I'll need some food.
And I'll have to panhandle for food.
And it will suck hard.
And I'll sell plasma.
Oh yeah, I will have lost my job because of something horrible.
So I'll have to sell plasma.
So I'll sell plasma.
And I'll get $50 a week.
And ... I don't know what to do after that.
I can't see that far ahead.
I guess I would sleep in my car.
But I don't know where I would shower.
I guess I wouldn't shower.
And I would eat peanut butter sandwiches all the time.
And feel hungry all the time.
And I would feel good, because a person like me should be living in this way.
This is justice.
For my defaulted student loan.
And the complete destruction of a family.

Shit can really go downhill fast sometimes.

Venting Again

I think you should yell at me.

I think you should point out what I do wrong, and then yell at me for not doing it right.

Lord knows I do everything in my power to do things wrong, so it's important that you teach me that making mistakes is wrong. It's important that you address my incorrectness, my failings.

Please do not try to talk with me about how to do things correctly in the future. Please don't try to explain how you would like things done. Please don't try to understand where I'm coming from so that you can better understand what my next move might be. As a person in authority over me it would only make you weaker if you were able to understand where I'm coming from. As a person, it only makes you weaker to understand where I'm coming from.

I'm a bad boy, and I deserve to be yelled at. I deserve to be told that my wording is confusing. I deserve to be corrected by you, because you have it all worked out. Which is why you're so successful. You have achieved something, and so you're a success. And I am not a success, which is why you yell at me.

I don't copy papers right, so you yell at me, telling me I did it wrong. I don't fill out forms right, so you yell at me, telling me I did it wrong. I don't process cases correctly, so you yell at me, telling me I did it wrong.

I'm really glad you didn't tell me how to do it right. If you did, there might be some respect for you in me. There might be some gratitude that you helped me achieve success. But I'm glad I don't have respect for you. I'm glad I don't have gratitude for you. I'm glad that you have shown me that you are not here for me. You are not here to help. You are not here to encourage.

You are here to yell, because it's all wrong.

I'm all wrong.

So you yell.

I hope you get divorced, and your wife cuts your dick off and feeds it to you, and your children drown in a submarine accident and you have to watch them choke on their final breath as their eyes go lifeless and you see their souls leave their bodies and whatever hopes you had for them and for your future with them dies as they silently fall to the bottom of the sea, and your ex-wife takes all your money and you have to eat your toes to survive, and nobody gives you any free handouts or charity because your horrible, bleeding stumps of feet smell and prevent you from entering any place where people are because you're hideous soul has blackened your hideous face and then somebody sets you on fire with an errant cigarette and you feel your skin crackling and melting off your body and you don't die, but rather, you lie on the street in agony, begging for somebody to end your suffering, but they don't, because you're ugly and you smell like bile and hate.

losing sight of me

i feel you
i feel you creeping in
and it's creepy

i feel me
i feel me seeping out
i am weeping

and i don't know if i can stop it
but i damn sure won't go without a fight
i had things the way i liked them here
and i won't bark without a bite

i'm turning
i'm turning into you
and it's maddening

i'm losing
i'm losing sight of me
it keeps worsening

i will blow if i can't stop you
you're just smoke sign in the night
everything you touch turns mealy
i'll explode if pushed just right

i will die trying to stop you
you are wrong for all my right
your infection is your presence
and i'll end you if you try
i'll end you

panic attack

too much breathing
too much seething
every thing is
round and round and

crawling blindly
i can't see
the pounding
deafens every me

and scratching, scratching
searching, patching
latching down the
problem sea

my worries flood
a tidal wave
i'm breathing too much
suffocating

grasping, grasping
ever lasting
never ending
ending, ending

all i hear
is wrongful words
the hateful words
i can't make out
and all i smell
is acid hate
the panic state
the vomiting
i'm coming out
i'm coming loose
i'm falling out
i'm { } abuse
i'm down
my life
is bleeding
out
out of
control
i'm losing
hold

i'm gone!
and now i'm gone!
i can't be found!
i'm gone! i'm gone!

do not know
where i was then
i cannot tell
the world was bent
i came back now
but not for long
i don't know when
i will be gone

i will be gone
i will be gone
i will be gone
i will be gone
i will be gone
i will be gone
i will be gone
i will be gone

The Passed Past

I remember the first time you smiled at me
And how it seemed to set my heart free
There was no way for me to know
That you wouldn't stay, you needed to go.

The time that we shared was so long ago
So many summer swims, so many winter snows
It's been so long since I thought of our tale
Reminded just now by your surprise email.

I got it before I took my nightly rest
Your email from Facebook, a friend request
A short little sentence from so far away
And like a flash in the night I knew what to say,

God, did you get fugly.

there's a picture behind a bookshelf

why'd they put a bookshelf over the picture?
is it a picture at all?
just the frame is staring at me
peeking out from behind the bookshelf

is it some award that they're not proud of?
or an uncle that they're not proud of?
were they just too lazy to take it down?
or was the bookshelf something hurried?

why'd they put a bookshelf over the picture?
is it somebody they'd like to forget?
would they feel bad if they threw it away?
would others judge if they threw it away?
do they care what others think?
and do they care that the frame is staring at me
peeking out from behind the bookshelf
it whispers to me
yelling quietly
as it stares at me
peeking at me
whispering at me
"don't be me"