My whole life I have hidden behind words, bending them to make a labyrinth around the person I knew myself to be. A person that stopped and started at one point. A person that exploded from that one point into the past and the future. That one point smearing all that lay before and ahead of it in filth. The filth is the truth. The words helped me decorate the filth, to prolong despair with the decadent narrative I wanted this life to be. Like a home filled with meaningless trinkets, acquired on a consumptive impulse and hoarded emptily.
I wanted to feel special. I wanted to feel like I might someday get to be more than what the world birthed me as: white trailer trash, destined for factory work. I compromised my integrity for fame because people would finally listen to me.
I left everything behind at Winter Soldier. After they denied my benefits and I lost everything. I somberly packed my life into a bag and tried to leave with a fantasy of adventure. I tried to hold my head up. And I did. For a long time. For so long that it became the only way I knew how to live.
Waking up in filthy Greyhound stations with some black residue in your mouth, a mostly empty jar of peanuts, seven cigarettes and some fucking bum who won’t quit looking at my shit. Falling asleep on whatever floor or couch I could connive my way into. Falling in love at the drop of a hat, working hard for a bed to sleep in.
Becoming a creature of need. Becoming a lonely wolf, surrounded by fat pigs. Becoming leaner and meaner. Learning how to survive.
And then one day I wanted it to stop. I got tired. Real tired. I finally felt that I deserved to have love, and a place to call my own, and to hold my head up high amongst all the normal people and know that I was every bit as normal as them. I applied for jobs and tried to be more serious about relationships but the jobs never worked out and the relationships always ended up being provisional and I’d get this feeling and then I’d be in another Greyhound station.
For years now I’ve been trying to find a place that would forgive me long enough to finally plant a landing. Austin, Chicago, Kalamazoo… working my way back down the same path I’d crawled out of Michigan on until finally I came to be at my Grandma’s house.
I didn’t panic. I was in love and I had some VA money. But the VA money didn’t work. And then I panicked. I’ve panicked for days. But I’ve finally come to a resolution.
I really am not made for the normal world. I only know how to survive the wilderness on the outside. I have adapted skills for this purpose. I have a tattoo on my neck that means I’ll be like this forever. It is time to accept this path and to make my amends.
So don’t trust me if I say I love you because I can’t and if I did the world wouldn’t let me. And if I say I’m going to stay I’m lying. I come from the world of make believe and nothing here is true. Every day I wake up and swear an oath to beauty and do my best to point myself towards it until this rickety frame of mine collapses on some floor and wakes up to do it again.
Don’t expect me to be happy because I’m done acting like I am and I can’t afford the drugs to put on the face. Happiness is for them. I am filled with a pirates glee which is partially examined shame mixed with rebel fury and I like that just fine.
Some day I’m going to die like Paul did. In some town where I don’t know anyone with a suitcase and a few sketch books and my tattoo equipment, like an angel burning it’s way to hell and loving it. Then everyone will have the me that they want without me having to deal with disappointing them.
Expect nothing.
The Paper Trail 
Love it man.
Not OC. PC. I love it man.
Quite frankly, I probably have no idea what you’re going through right now, but here goes nothing…
I hope this is OK.. I’m gonna use this little comment box to go on a rant. Feel free to delete it; I just need to get some things off my chest.
Well, to begin, I know my situation is better than most people’s. I live with my parents, I’m enrolled at a community college, and I truly don’t have a whole lot to complain about. However, during these past few months, I have come to the realization that I crave to be so much more. I long for companionship.
I’m nearly 20 years old, and I have no job, no car, and no social life. My day consists of being barricaded in a secluded house nearly 45 minutes away from civilization. Let me repeat that for you if anyone even cares to read this….I’m 19 years old, I live with my parents, I have no fucking car, job or social encounters. It’s disheartening to say the least.
I live in quite possibly the worst area possible. I don’t feel as though I fit in with any of these assholes. I just want out.
Like I said, I’m currently enrolled in community college. I’m attempting to get my degree in Computer Science. I have no idea where I’m going to go once I graduate community college. I truly have no plans. It’s not that I don’t want these plans; it’s simply that I cannot have them. Everything you do…it takes MONEY, MONEY, MONEY. My parents make less than $15,000 a year. I currently have no job at the moment simply because you’d have to live where I live to understand why. Not to mention, I have turned to marijuana over the past year (that didn’t really help in the whole getting a job thing). I’m not saying marijuana is bad. I have honestly enjoyed it’s use. It’s freeing and relaxing. I feel as though I’m able to cram all my cares in a bottomless pit and then just smile and laugh for no reason at all. However, it’s getting in the way. For some reason, employers don’t like their employees using “drugs”. Even though, marijuana has yet to kill a single soul. Whereas alcohol claims thousands of lives yearly. Yeah, I want someone to just explain to me the logic in that.
Alright, back to the money idea.
My parents have no money. I have no job. I have no car. And I live 45 minutes away from civilization. What the fuck am I supposed to do?
I don’t want to just pretend that I’m happy and move on. No, I’m fucking disgusted. I’m tired of having to turn people away because my life is so fucking sub par. Maybe I don’t technically have to do this, but it’s rather embarrassing having to explain to a lady that the reason I can’t attend her birthday party is because I have no money or any way to transport my ass to her house. The one and only lady that has ever expressed any sort of kindness towards me…I had to fucking reject because I simply knew that I wouldn’t be able to provide for her.
And yes, I know people have it far worse than me. The article above provides one of many examples. I’m just tired. I’m tired of sub par. I’m tired of mediocre. I’m sick of having to reject people because of my financial status.
Oh and let’s not forget I’m attempting to major in Computer Science with one of the worst internet connections in the entire fucking world. Fuck you CenturyLink. Just fuck you. I know the internet isn’t everything. But come on. I just feel like the universe is trolling me now. I mean really…I can’t even have a decent internet connection? I’m a fucking gamer for God-sake. And porn is my only female companionship. At least give me a good enough internet connection so I can have a little bit of entertainment.
I also should just go ahead and mention the fact that the only people that I truly respected and cared about dropped off the face of the earth in the past five years. And maybe this is the culprit in my life. I didn’t really mind all these little oddities in my life when my uncle and grandmother were still alive. I didn’t really care. I loved these people. I loved them very much. I could tell them anything. And suddenly boom! “Fuck you, I’m gonna take the people you love so dearly and cram ’em in the dirt.”
Let me clarify, I’m a believer. I do believe in God. And right now, I’m kinda pissed at him. If he does exist, I just want him to know that I’m kinda upset with him right now. I’m been hiding these emotions for far too long. And I can’t do it any longer. I feel like I’m going to snap at any given moment.
I don’t know. I just don’t know anymore. Sometimes I truly believe ignorance really is bliss.
Well, it seems I have made in error in the second to last paragraph. The sentence should be written…”I’ve been hiding these emotions…”
Fuck!
I quit. I just fucking quit. I wished there was an editing option on here. Anyways, good night. It’s nearly 4:00am where I live. I’m going to try and get some rest and then figure out what I can do to jump-start this mediocre life I’m living in.
Best regards,
Anonymous
Yo Anonymous! This is God.
First, do you realize your writing of pain can be transformed into a work of art that could be published and read by millions?
Second, computer science gets you a job, but what I really hear you saying is you want a life to live free of the everyday bustle you currently struggle with daily.
Third, keep a journal of your struggles and keep it safe and private. Why? One day you will publish those struggles and write a biography about the common man’s experience.
Lastly, you do not have to have trappings of riches to LOVE somebody, but you do need the proper attitude. Vanity of wealth is in the eye of the beholder, and if your beholder only cherished wealth, then find another.
But also, LOVE requires honesty with what you seek so the other party can bear their pain and markings as well. Otherwise, your LOVE will be a farce.
You mention job, college, parents not having money, but have you ever really thought about what makes you happy or drives your passion? I would say start with passion and then seek simple life where you can possible grow your passion while you seek comforts of life. You can move! You can distance yourself from pain! You can go to college! You can better your situation! Control your thoughts, stay true to GOD and Love your fellow human being with compassion. You have control over your actions so take action.
I meet a guy possibly 22 years old from somewhere in Arkansas yesterday at a Subway sandwich shop across from Los Angles Union Station. He struck a cord in me–he was physically disfigured, drunk, hungry, sad, pleading for help and emotionally unstable. He had previously tried to commit suicide by blowing a hole through his head so walking, swallowing, talking, sight, coordination etc… where clearly compromised. I sat and talked with him, paid for food, discussed his life, where he was from, his circumstances etc… I found him to be intelligent, witty, compassionate, seeking guidance, youthful, promising and yet sorry for what he did to himself. See he allowed his emotions to guide his mind and once you allow that to happen you loose. Instead allow your heart to guide your mind, and your sole to guide your actions, and your emotions to guide your LOVE of human beings as we all have issues.
Best to you,
GOD