Saturday, January 31, 2009

I've gone to another first session with a therapist. This one reminds me a bit of myself and William Burroughs, and while I'm not sure if that is exactly a good thing, he's at least an interesting person. I'm going to go back. He actually called me a poet, which was a stroke to my ego if not entirely accurate. Speaking of poetry: I'd like to get together with an illustrator and get something going as far as putting If I Were A Camel and Motorcars Are Loud into a publishable form sometime soon. The problem with that is that I don't exactly know how to do that. My friend's mom knows the illustrator for the Franklin series, and I wonder if she'd be interested or not.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Actually, I didn't believe in evil until rather recently. It's been a slow slide into corruption, but I'm finally here. I'm capable of anything and actually seek out ways to be malign. I suppose everyone is right, men are the devil and the white oppressor is the enemy. I've got so much anger inside of me and I don't know where it comes from, anger towards women, anger towards men, towards myself, towards authority, towards my mother, towards people who would tell me I'm not as terrible as I make myself out to be.. You're wrong and you don't know anything about me. What do you know?.. What I've told you? I'm a liar and I've lied about my entire existence. Men cannot speak about their emotions, not because they are poor victims of societal moulding, but because our emotions, or at least mine, are unspeakably evil. Lies, lies upon lies, compound lies that deliver me to the cold, hard person I have become. I'm useless except as a destructor. The only question left is what to destroy. 

I canceled the appointment with my therapist today, I made some excuse to everyone about being sick. I had a headache but mostly it was out of fear that I missed it. I intend to go and I will call to do that but I'm not sure how much good it will do. I'm already realizing what it is to be me and no amount of talking me back will change it, even if it's successful in convincing me. If it weren't for my daughter I'd already have gone off the deep end, but I can't let her see how terrible people are, she's only six. I have a very hard time not simply abandoning all causes and people, I can never be a good person and I hate that people have to be exposed to me. What I can do is improve my mask and see if I can make the therapist convince me I have some hope of ever becoming a functioning part of society. Lies upon lies upon lies. Maybe that's simply what the world is built on and I'm a bad player. The face I make at work should be with me all the time, possibly even when I'm alone, that might help to convince me I'm something constructive.

I also hate feminism, mainly because it's made up of exclusive bitches that pick me apart based on any behavior that might be stereotypical of my cock, disregarding all other behavior that is stereotypical of other groups. Jesus christ, what do I have to do to convince you I'm not the idiot in senate who votes against abortion rights for the sole purpose of keeping women out of power? Even if I were to become a woman, these retards would never accept me. All that's left for me is to start studying business and become a poster-boy for the problem. I hate you all, you lying, cheating, hypocritical copies of me, and I wish death on most of you.