Wednesday, January 24, 2018

Bitterness is my jockey

Sometimes I feel like a horse being ridden by bitterness as my jockey. I feel entrapped by the belief in deserts and it is like being crushed in the coils of a serpent pitiless and greedy of my breath.

You don't want to communicate with me but I did nothing to earn that. It's hard on a person because it is like a ruthless calculus. When people do you wrong, you don't want to talk to them, so if you don't want to talk to someone, they must have done something wrong.

But you left me. You left me with debts that were your responsibility. You left me homeless and without means to get a home. You took my child and you didn't bother yourself with that, only with your anger that I wasn't around to make your life easier.

But my life, what about that?

And I still feel the echoes of how good you could be, before you crushed the good out of yourself for what reason I don't even know. I feel like it didn't even sour because we didn't go sour. You just curdled.

And I don't care what lies you tell yourself or what lies you tell your friends. (Because you must lie. You cannot bear not to be the victim and I know you will have created victimhood to spill to others. Because you cannot bear not to be adored. But you don't want to be loved. They are different things. How was I to know? How was I to know what penury of the soul you want the world to live with?)

Having nothing is nothing. It's not knowing how to get anything. And the truth is, most people I know don't know either. If they lost their way of making a living, their "skill sets" would be worth nothing much at all. Just like yours. You talked it up but you knew it wasn't worth much.


You don't want to communicate with me but we have a child. And communicating isn't hard. I don't say anything to you. You play shitty games: you'll schedule the times you permit me to contact my daughter, then you don't bother letting me know the times you will allow it. Then you fake being angry when I mention that to you. You demand mediation then ruin the session by refusing to discuss anything. You just want paper that says you are right.

You are only right because there's nothing I can do. And if it was you, how would you feel? How would you feel if I had left you with thousands in debt that you can't pay, stuck without a home; if I made it impossible for you to be part of your child's life? How would you feel?


But you know, I feel like I pay you another part of me for it. I pay blood you didn't earn by feeling badly about it. I pay the cells of my body for the bitterness you have invoked in me. I pay the breath of my body for the sadness that love has become for me.


I do not hate you for it. Why should I? You are sowing enough hate not to need mine too. She will hate you just like her elder sister. When she knows. You think we are just puppets you can treat with contempt. You think she will love you for cutting her dad to bits because it made you feel good about yourself? You think she will love you for hurting her when she understands you've hurt her?

She'll hate you like everyone else who's ever loved you, like everyone who's ever needed you. You'd think you know, a child cannot shed the bitterness its parent grows in it. You'd think you'd have learned. But you think growing bitterness is your right.

So this is where I feel I have to shed it. I have to rid myself of it. However hard, I have to cut it away like the rotting sore it is. There's a point where you have to say, you are not worth hating, and even if that isn't true, it can become true if you have faith.

Tuesday, January 02, 2018


I was strong and confident and then I learned the hard way -- and almost no one does -- that confidence is made of privilege and money, and then I lost my job and boom! there goes my confidence.

Then my wife, whom I really loved so much, or maybe I just really fancied her, because let's face it, since her daughter binned her she wasn't great, but really, I can't tell, because I believe in the dream but I never can quite do the reality and what is up with that, anyway, she dumped me because I didn't have that job and she thought she'd make more as a single mum, and I'm stuck between I kind of appreciate her doing that and I'm heartbroken because it hurts like fuck.

So that's that, I'm not strong, I'm not confident and I'm fat and ugly and fifty and I live in my sister's house and I have no way home. I have skills I can only buy minimum wage with even though I'm like 90 percent of a genius but lacking the good 10 percent.

And I revisit my whole life and decide I really was a cunt but I'm never quite sure is that because everyone else thinks i'm a cunt or I really am and if I am how come I'm just not all that hurtful?

And shoutout to A, who is faithful for so little reward. And to Lisa, who I don't know what, maybe the best way for her to give is at a distance but I appreciate it.

And yes, I'm lonely. Life's like that when you think you have something to offer and no one else agrees but I can still believe whatever I like. And I realise when you're sad and lonely all you can hope to attract is sad and lonely but if you're anything else you're just pretending and I don't really do pretending.

Anyway, fuck it, you don't care, I don't care.