Bad News and the Emotional Results

A story told in an angry rant.

Bad News and the Emotional Results

I never like getting news I don’t like.  This doesn’t necessarily mean BAD news per sé, more so any news I find thoroughly disturbing in any fashion.

Let me explain:

The night prior to the strange events of today I had spoken to my close friend. 

It was brought to my attention that a pair of women had been invited to the house for one basic purpose.  To be used for their physical selves.  They were not being brought here to be courted, they weren’t being brought here to be wined and dined, and, in following with all of these things, they weren’t being brought here for their good company.  They were here to be fucked and cast aside.

This all being said, I am not necessarily against such visits.  My issue tends to be in being kept out of the loop.  I know, other people live with me, but still, I would like to know when there is going to be a strange happening that I’m not necessarily included in. 

Is it jealousy?  Yes, definitely, but not in full.  I feel annoyed when I find out about these sorts of things when there’s really no way that I can make any sort of plan to circumvent the situation. 

Either way:

I voiced my concerns and annoyances with my friend.  I explained how I felt.  I told him that I would’ve really liked to know earlier say . . . when these plans had begun.  It’s not like I wasn’t around the whole time.  It was made fairly obvious by way of this conversation that I had been myself circumvented.  A conspiracy of sorts had been put into place to make sure that I knew nothing of these plans.  Why?  Because it was thought that I would “get annoyed” and “ruin them”. 

OH on the contrary.  I would never ruin someone’s chances at “getting theirs” but I will surely voice my distaste, annoyance, and actual emotional concern for all parties involved.

It has become quite clear to me that this new character that has edged his way into my life by way of essential lack of the necessary funds to live is a megalo-maniacal, overly self-involved, vain, egotistic, womanizing piece of s**t.  Now I must explain to a certain extent these feelings to continue with my story. 

How can I feel so justified in these judgments that are being so grievously passed?  I mean . . . wasn’t I one of these same types not but three months ago? 

Yes.  This isn’t a matter of my disgust with the fact that I see myself in this person more so that this person’s idea of themselves, as conveyed outwardly to all, is the ABSOLUTE opposite of what he really is.  I don’t find it one bit interesting to hear about this person’s interest in EVERY woman he sees for solely physical purposes.  Due to this, I would much less like to hear his musings to every other person, women included, about how much of a “stand-up guy” he is.  SHUT THE F**K UP!!  I SEE YOU!! When you jump from woman to woman in a maniacal and deviant manner how can you POSSIBLY tell people that you’re “looking for a woman that you love and could settle down with”?  EVERY WOMAN YOU SEE YOU DECIDE THEY WANT YOU.  THAT THEY’RE BY PROXY “IN LOVE” WITH YOU, AND THANKS TO ALL OF THIS THEY WANT TO SLEEP WITH YOU????

No . . . you’re a thick headed idiot.  So thick it hurts me to see.

SO, this man, in my opinion, has worked my dearest friend in this world here into such a carnal, horny and strangely vile fervor, that my friend . . . MY FRIEND is acting the exact same way.  I mean granted, he’s not the best with women but he does know this.  He actually acknowledged this with me THE DAY BEFORE ALL OF THIS NONSENSE.  HE EXPRESSED A SINCERE DESIRE TO NOT ACT LIKE THIS.

Now that I have explained this hopefully it’s a little more clear why, upon hearing about this strange rendezvous that had been planned for the day to come, I became upset.

My friend and I spoke and we agreed that he should have told me and I told him that I would “be on my best behavior”. 

In my own idiotic fashion I chose not to sleep.  Why?  Who cares, it just means that I haven’t slept and I’m more prone to being an a*s.

I spent the night at my computer, soaking my brain with idiocy, lamenting the past, lamenting the future, lamenting the present, wasting the minutes of my extended day that could be used for good for absolute, worthless nonsense.  That’s my problem.  I know it but I don’t like to admit it.

Come 7AM I wandered out of my room, bleary eyed and less than excited for what this day had in store.  I crossed paths with my meat-head gym f*g of a roommate and it was brought to my attention that these slam dolls were arriving at 9AM . . . two hours from that very moment.  TWO HOURS??  I had been told sometime in the early afternoon. 

I was frustrated but I let it roll off of my back quickly.  What else can I do?  It’s not just my house; I ought to just try to make the best of the situation. I’ll speak to these women as if they were equals, I need nothing from them and, in fact, I want nothing from them.  No, I don’t mean this to claim my martyrdom for the day.  Not in the least.  This is an honest feeling that I’ve been slowly developing over the past month or so.  These women are also people, just as I am, just as anyone else is.  Why should I treat them as something other than that??

Upon the arrival of 9AM the meathead comes downstairs, bright eyed and bushy tailed, ready to stick his c**k into some new hole.  (I will say much of my distaste for such grievous disregard for another person’s humanity; the idea that they’re there to serve a purpose for oneself definitely stems from bad feelings from my past.  I’ve done it and I’ve come to terms with my personal actions.  It’s something I’d rather not fall back into and, therefore, something I find horrific to watch.)  I queried if he was going somewhere as he looked like a lap dog that needed to unleash his bladder.  He explained that yes, in fact, he was. 

I probed further into his pea brain to understand where he was going because it seemed like he was unsure as well.  To pick up the girl’s he said.  The cockpockets.  The holes that I’m bringing here for myself and your best friend to defile and degrade.  They can’t seem to get their car out here (it’s snowed about 7 inches since 3AM) and I am headed to pick them up.

Here begins my cordial descent into my own pit of anger, disgust, resentment, and general bad behavior as rationalized by my wonderful brain.

I felt as if I couldn’t spend another minute in the house and, realizing that ape was leaving for not too long, I jumped at the opportunity.  Can I ride with you?  Ummm . . . yea I just have to drop of a job application at the tire place if you don’t mind that then I guess so.  Yea, why would I mind? 

He steps out the front door to start his car and, within moments, he returns to attempt to “shake the tail”.  He says that the girls told him I couldn’t pick them up with him because “the woman who oversees our house wouldn’t like it”.  Oh, I said, I actually know that place and, if you’re able to pick them up, you being a male and all that, then there is NO reason I can’t go with you. 

Excuses begin to unload.  I grudgingly agree to wait at the coffee place down the road. 

We get in the car and begin to make our way to p***y pick up.  This guy is awful; he’s listening to s****y country music and speaks in three different, extremely forced accents. 

He gets out of the car to drop off his application with the tire spot so I grab the music and throw on some nice, slow, relaxing and enjoyable stuff.  I close my eyes, lay back and drift away into a trance.

He abruptly returns, jams his hands-free cell phone head set into his ears, and begins to empty his face of dumb nonsense to his meat head muscle f*g best bro.

I’m annoyed in a great way but I ignore, hone in on the music that he so choicely decided to turn down.  I let it all go again.

We arrive at destination coffee shop hiding spot.  I get out and grab myself and my friend some coffee.  Speak to a few of the people I know from around town.  Step outside to smoke a cigarette.  Tap my feet.  He arrives and, surely enough, there are two extra people in the vehicle. 

I enter the car and begin to act like my usual self.  The women exit, they need their coffee fix and some cigarettes as well.

They take their god damn time.

Finally they arrive back at the vehicle, get in, and begin to cluck away.

I speak to the girl sitting next to me.  We speak about mutual friends, how strange and funny life can be, how our lives have gone poorly, how our lives have gone well.  I complain to her about my nonsensical computer issues and she seems interested.  I enjoy our talk.  This is not as bad as I expected, a feeling I’m coming to know very well.

We arrive back at the house and the obvious preparations are starting to go into motion in muscle f*g’s brain.

No time seems to be wasted.  We each finish our cigarettes, make some small talk and then enter the house.  My friend arrives and greets us all with hugs.  He really is a great guy at heart.

Muscle dick and his meat wallet head upstairs within seconds of entering the house.  They hole up in his room and do God knows and cares not.

I remain in the living space, the COMMUNITY space, where people should spend some time before they dump their genitals into one another. 

The girl I sat with in the car, myself and my close friend begin an interesting and idiotic conversation about the internet.

We watch funny videos, beautiful videos, look at silly pictures, speak of our own respective problems, commiserate on shared issues and desires, laugh, listen and enjoy one another’s company.

I notice at some point during this conversation my dear friend has wandered off.  He is making himself some breakfast and has kindly offered to make his p***y some breakfast too. 

I foolishly, but never the less, genuinely started to believe that he’s not just in it for her parts.  It’s not JUST about the instant gratification she can provide.  Not just about her beautiful outsides but also about her beautiful insides which I have been so enjoying this whole time.  It seems to me that maybe he’s even made a flip from his initial thoughts and has decided not to go through with his carnal desires but would like to respect her for who  she is before he takes what he wants.

After this all occurs to me I begin to notice a strange difference in my friend.  He’s not as talkative, seems withdrawn.  He’s not depressed, he seems more annoyed.  I know him well enough to know that something is bothering him but he doesn’t know how to express it. 

Muscle a*s suddenly appears in the community area with his w***e hog.  She looks quite pleased as does he.  She clearly has disgusting and poor taste in the people she chooses to sleep with.  Not that I know how to choose mates in any regard.  Now I suppose I’m getting radically cynical and I should stop.

So, muscle man arrives at the foot of the steps with his bride to be.  His wife and himself propose that the girl I sat with in the car, the girl I’ve been thoroughly enjoying, the girl who my dear friend wants to destroy, join them for a cigarette.

She agrees.

I approach my friend and question him on his mood.  It was obvious that it had quickly shifted and I was curious.  I knew he had some grand plans for the day and wanted to cheer him up somehow.

Me:

What’s up?

Friend:

Ehh . . . nothin’ dude.

Me:

Doesn’t seem like nothing, you seem a bit upset . . . annoyed maybe?

Friend:

Yea . . . I’m kinda wondering if you’re like . . . tryin’ to steal my girl . . . ya know?  Like you’ve been talkin’ her up this whole time and hittin’ on her and stuff . . .

Me:

What??  So you think I’m “trying to steal YOUR GIRL”?  Do you not know me at all??  Do you honestly think I’d do something like that??

Friend:

Well . . . haha I’m not really sure dude . . . I’m not really sure!

Me:

Wow . . . wow.

Within moments the day that I had found to be unexpectedly pleasant had gone FAR worse than I could have ever imagined. 

Here I am.  Stepping out of my shell with these two women, namely the girl who sat next to me, whom I’ve never ONCE met.  They’re both in my home and, presumably, no obviously at this point, they’re here to be pounded out.  I’m not okay with this.  I was having a really great time being myself, speaking about things I enjoy speaking about, just generally shooting the s**t with this girl I’ve never met nor really intended to meet today, and SOMEHOW I’m STEALING HER?

F**k . . . that’s all I can say.  This was what a good deal of my dissatisfaction, discomfort and general annoyance and hesitance was thanks to.  Ego.  I had quite a feeling that, when any man feels that his prey is threatened, he will lash out and protect what he feels is rightfully his.

I was stunned.  My friend knows me and he knows me well enough to know that in no way would I intentionally “steal his girl”.  THAT’S NOT “YOUR GIRL” EITHER.  SHE’S NOT ANYBODY’S “GIRL”.  It was very clear that I was acting like myself.  I was NOT putting on some ridiculous show, tempting this woman into leaving her “john” so to speak.  Her “john” who has paid no money for her services but feels as if they are so rightfully his.

Does this mean he feels as if I’m putting on heirs for this female?  Like I really need to prove myself to anyone?  Him?  Me?  Her?  ANYONE?  Does he really think I would so blatantly pull that f*****g stupid carpet out from under his horny feet? 

NO!

I DIDN’T EVEN LIKE THE IDEA OF THEM COMING HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE!  WHY WOULD I SO SUDDENLY DECIDE THAT I’D “TAKE YOUR GIRL”??  GOD DAMNIT YOU’RE BEING AN IGNORANT, HORNY, BEASTLY, FOUL CREATURE!!

God was I beside myself.  I didn’t let it show.  I acted as if and moved fluidly towards the door, cigarette in hand, and allowed myself to ponder.

Thanks to my own social and personal problems I came to the conclusion that I needed to extricate myself from this odd and ultimately outlandish situation.  I wouldn’t stop acting like myself because how does one do that?  I would take myself elsewhere. 

Disappointedly I re-entered the now newly-found bordello that once, so recently was, the community room. 

Within SECONDS my friend jumps at me. 

Friend:

DUUUUDE!!!  Can I have a cigarette??  If I can I won’t ever be mad at you again!

I will surely abide by this but only to shut your face immediately.

You really feel as if the best solution to this situation is to effectively ask me to BRIBE YOU OUT OF BEING MAD AT ME??

WHAT??

WHY??

HOW??

This is so wrong.  No . . . this is delusional.  I quickly chuck the cigarette at him, not in a rude manner, just to get it to him quickly.  I resume my position on the couch.

Now that I feel absolutely incorrect about being able to just be me I feel a need to delve into something that will help me ignore this.

I begin to search my computer for any alternate reality that I can quickly enter.

This does not fulfill my gap.

I exit the bordello; another cigarette needs to be had.

Upon returning once more I am pulled aside by my friend.

Friend:

Dude I’m sorry I was being dumb.  Okay?

Me:

You know what?  No it’s not okay.  This is really disappointing.  I can’t honestly believe that this would come from you of ALL people.  I’m really disappointed.

I amble out of his den and wander off into the home, hoping that somewhere I can find an all-consuming black hole and fall into it.

I feel . . . sad.  I feel like I’ve been made to act completely different because someone’s idiotic wants and desires have supposedly been threatened when, in reality, nothing of the sort was taking place.

I hear in the background my friend laughing to the other two that I was mad at him. 

THIS IS NOT FUNNY!  HOW IS THIS AT ALL FUNNY?

I retreat to my own den.  I lie down and turn on some music.  I drift into my favorite trance, above and away from this world.  Above and away from me and everyone else.

I come back and decide to get a book.  I can’t shake this feeling of shear disappointment and melancholy.

I wander back downstairs, fetch the book I wanted and, again, retreat to my own den.

I flip through the first few pages and begin to read what I know to be the foreword.

I don’t think any book has ever comforted me as this book did today.  I felt a calm, warm, serene, comforting, cozy, reminiscent, happy, joyous blanket fall gently on me and wrap itself perfectly under my back. 

This book had effectively told me what I needed to do and I knew that if I didn’t seize the moment it would be gone.

Although I have written about this book occurrence in such an urgent fashion I would like toexplain that it wasn’t with some amount of effort that I ousted myself from my depressed bed resting state.

After a few moments of denying myself, doubting my abilities, thinking about how to go about this new thing and negative self-brain-talk I finally rolled out of bed and darted down into the bordello once more.

I had read the foreword to a collection of short stories by one of my favorite authors.  He took a few pages out of the book to go about explaining how he had started writing things he really liked; things he felt were original and conveyed his thoughts. 

Something inside of that piece of writing set the cogs and gears in my brain to work and, within moments, I found myself compelled to put this whole situation into writing.

Why? 

Well . . . I suppose we all have our own wants and desires and mine tend to be character assassination with absolutely no consequences.  We all want a place where we can go and be who we really WANT to be.  Not just be ourselves but be who we know others wouldn’t want to know.  It’s not that I’m trying to say I don’t act like myself around others but, sadly, there are parts of myself that need not be shared with others.

I suppose it’s not so sad more so . . . dissatisfying that I still feel the need to hold back.  I do think though that my need to hold back is in accordance with a part of me that maybe I just don’t enjoy?  I just don’t feel it SHOULD be shared with others?  Either way I’ll share it with you.

Now you know me better than some and maybe even myself on occasion.

To close up the story:

I again entered the bordello and abruptly asked to have my computer.  I hopefully did not come across as spiteful because I didn’t care that they were using it to watch a movie.  I just really needed it so I could do some writing.  Thankfully, without any hang ups, I was afforded back my personal possession and left to my own devices. 

It did seem as if I facilitated the initiation of my friend’s slamming of the girl I sat next to though. 

I suppose I made a sacrifice. 

She wants it anyways. 

She hasn’t got any sort of self-worth I guess. 

She knows that my friend was mad at me for “trying to steal her” and she also knows that she spent FAR less time speaking with him about important things and far MORE time speaking with him about stupid bull nonsense.

Whatever.

Here I am and, if you’re reading this, which I surely hope that you are, you’ve allowed me to pour my deepest self into you.  I would only ask one thing of you and that is that you PLEASE do the same to others.  Anonymously and in your own way, show everyone you can your inner-being because it is the first step to letting yourself out all the way.

 

 

Author's Note

This was written in a frenzied rage. Please consider that and let me know what you think.