You Won’t Harden Fast Enough To Stay There
Well… hello there! Welcome back. It’s certainly been a while. The girls are still missing. Where the hell have you been? What happened? We really couldn’t give a rat’s ass anyway. We’re just being polite when we ask what keeps assholes like you trying, and what remarkable implementations of self-destruction you may indulge when you give up for however long. It’s like watching TV. The flesh is a temple of the divine and a tissue for convenience for the manly of mankind. Pussy smells – period! But we normal folk delight in being drawn by the nose to standing waters in gutters and upturned garbage can lids worldwide. We haven’t gone anywhere. As a matter of fact, we haven’t skipped a beat. The girls are still missing. We’ve stopped pretending to care. It’s open season on dark meat, both on viral and on criminal justice fronts. Oh, and did we mention, the girls are still missing. Did you really think something would change while you lay sulking in your shell the past several months? No, my friend, this world hasn’t missed you one bit, and when you’re dead and gone, your only requiem will be provided by generations of earthworms and the rectums of visiting fowl. Who the fuck would listen to what you have to say?
…Tell you what. Why don’t you sit back for a change and let us feed you some content. Tricky? It just might do you some good, Mr. Magic… or whatever the hell you think your game is. (You know, you really ought to consider changing that lame assed title of yours. People really don’t get it.) Let’s start with some useful trivia. Excretion is one of several bodily functions that continues on for some time after the body dies. That’s because most of your wretched flesh is made up of microbes waiting for your sorry ass to drop dead so they can feast on what’s left. The gas that the bugs create causes the expulsion of whatever matter is left in the colon. So you might just want to include a rugged butt plug and a clean pair of skivvies in your suicide kit. We all know you keep one; we’d know everything about you if we could withstand the boredom. God may know how many apples are in a seed, but only we know precisely how much fabric has been stained by yours, all because you’re stupid enough to tell and not even be aware that you’re playing the perfect fool.
Wanna know what’s really wrong with you? Then grab hold of your ears and cop a squat because this is heavy duty. You seem to see all too clearly the ‘dots’ of calamity that punctuate your life. Allow us to connect a few of them at your expense of course. Oh… Okay, we can understand why you’d want to keep something from spewing back at you. Let’s just say you’ve had some remarkable run-ins with the Feminine aspect of this time-space reality. And by now, you’ve come full circle, from ignorant, virgin misogynist to moon quaffed cunt crusader extraordinaire – and… the girls are still missing!
Yet, they were always there… in your mind and in your dreams… like lollipops dangling from invisible strings. In second grade, Sister Mary Joseph said that your nines looked like lollipops. She assigned Hilda to stay behind during recess to show you how to make proper nines. Hilda was sweet. She was pretty. She had blue eyes and golden curls like Goldilocks. You sat behind her. Often, you’d play with her hair. She would always turn around and giggle. You were in love with her. No one really knew or cared. But, alas, the girls are missing.
You stumbled through your troubled teens with feelings as clumsy as your limbs. The girls would laugh. The boys would laugh. The staff would turn in ignorance. You would be devastated. And to this day, you still can’t charm a hand full of water down a vertical river. If a girl should wink, you’re in flight mode, not giving her the opportunity to ever reject you. You married the first woman desperate enough to offer you the chance to play human. Through her, you betrayed the entire human family. In that delirium, you longed for her girls and girls all over the breathing, bleeding cosmos. And because the girls are still missing, a woman who’s merely human is not enough.
Dude, here it is. For some God forsaken reason, you chose a heavy duty path. Yes, we can all go along with the idea that life is a school and that we’re all here learning. But you just have to play games with it. You have to stick your face in it – smell it, touch it, taste it… Know it. If you were as tenacious a student of ‘the right stuff,’ you’d have made it to the White House before Obama.
So, you are here again, and we are not… at least, not necessarily. We’re all in the mind that is yours alone while at once nonexistent and omnipresent – incandescent of truth or relative reality. If we could but afford it, we’d love to see it your way. So you passed through someone’s hole in order to get here to be with us. Terrific! We all did for the most part. What’s with the sentiment? Why the fixation? If you had a world to belong to, it would be one where it is common practice for a ‘gentleman’ to bow upon sight in reverence to the hourglass temple of the divine.
If we were our brother’s keeper we would grab you by the Brillo and stick your head right in the toilet. Wake up! Snap out of it!! This is reality. There’s a good reason why the Arabs keep their women covered from head to toe. If divinity and enlightenment through the sense of sight were to be encouraged, then people might be distracted from productive, worthwhile endeavors such as war and desecration. This world is about power – brute force power, rational power, intellect driven power, the kind of power that can pulverize mountains and flatten nations. This world is about fame and fortune, and about getting all you can get before the getting’s gone.
Yes, mister oddball, you’re a fairly sick puppy – just as we created you to be – an even more dysfunctional reflection of us. Why don’t you tell us you were drugged and raped by Bill Cosby back in the 60’s, mistaking you for something else? That’s the kind of perverse shit we’d rather hear about. Forget your misplaced love for the sacred feminine. There is no such thing. And, guess what…
The girls are still missing