Monday, September 21, 2015

For you Moscow — fire fire

She sat there and thought about writing for a long time. She was sick of her own voice, she was sick of the cruelty of her thoughts, she was sick of his reckless strolls down memory lane on Instagram, sick for his infantile pleas for attention on social media, she was sick of the recklessness altogether. She sat down at a dingy old desk at the library. It was dirty, it was ruined and written on, it was used. It reminded her who she had become. Reminded her of how men treated her. Just someplace to do the writing, stable legs to do their business on, scratch their name into its surface with a car key, write a couple of letters on to all the different pussy that they had to micromanage, eat a hot meal on and then leave not even cleaning up after themselves.

The lettter began: 

Dear CV or whatever name you were given first at birth,

There are no words  I can find to explain the mental disillusion that has become my existence. All that was a reality to me has been ripped away from me like a unborn child from the womb of a mother. Something that seemed so real, so tangible, vanished one day under vile circumstances of your own doing.

That sad video of the stray pup that sits at the bottom of an empty reservoir, matted and mulled, sitting in its own urine and unable to stand up is what remains of my heart. Abandoned, alone, sick, and unable to process what has happened. Unable to see anything else but the remains of rewound memories, playing tirelessly as if to beat me into the ground further, and jeering at me with great pleasure. Shell shocked.

I can hear your voice clearly in my head. I can see the other mask staring back at me yelling,

"Look!
Look at her as she sits there with her small sagging breasts and her wrinkled face. She has been defeated. She cannot compare to the body of an 18 year old, she is old and tired and amounts to nothing. Look at what we have made of her. No longer does her strength magnify her beauty. Her creativity, mind, and soul lost to time and space and spread to unknown corners of the universe. Her talents buried deep in the ground never to be seen again. She can't even think for herself anymore as her mind has become mucus and destroyed with the pain that has cut her every which way possible. Just look at how pathetic she is. A life just to breath, eat, shit and then die forgotten by all. She was invisible anyway, no one cared enough. She matters to no one. Most of all she never mattered to me. I fooled her. I succeeded, my ego succeeded, I tore her down completely, I had the power to do so, I made me feel good about myself. It made me feel amazing and accomplished that I can have any stupid and completely gullible female I want. Another one for the collection. Another one for the jar to look at — a specimen that is dead. This one will be labeled 'The One' since she was the hardest and the most work, she will be placed next to all that easy hoes that walked into my trap without a second thought starting with Moscow, Hungary, Greece, Bulgaria, Romania, Poland, New York, Canada, Melbourne, Amsterdam, Italy, Pittsburgh... "

Do you feel proud?
Is your ego filled?
Do you sleep well at night?
Do you enjoy running away from the hit-and-run that you willingly take part of?
Do you have the slightest understanding of how damaging and permanent your actions are?
Do you know who you are yet?
Do you? Do you?