Tell the Reaper Come and Get Me

I have written about drugs, sex, and violence.

I have been in and out of love.

I have helped deceive and have been deceived.

I have had horrible thoughts swimming inside of my mind.

I will throw you under the bus and hold your head underwater kick you while you’re down and proceed to bury your body.

I have had the feeling of my soul being empty

I helped one person cheat on their significant other, on their anniversary.

I was rude to certain people at certain times.

I judged certain people at certain times.

I swear like a sailor.

I am dedicated and determined.

I am not overly cocky.

I will often get drunk specifically to write.

I used to see women as objects for no specific reason. Now I love them for their minds, their intriguing way of thinking, and their personalities.

I used to care about what people thought about me, now I could give two shits about their opinion towards me because I know who I am and what I stand for and I know my strengths and barely know my weaknesses.

My heart is worth triple the amount that my physical appearance is worth.

I speak with a sober mind but spill out intoxicated words.

I speak the truth and rarely find it any other way.

I’d rather have you hate me for being honest than to go about the day lying to you.

Judge me on my past, my writing, or my character if you must, I know that my heart is made out of gold because of my mistakes. They have made me who I am… 

Dear Mama

Being away from home is a real strange feeling. Not waking up in my own room, not being able to see my best friend Odie, feels just odd. Not being close to the family, close to my mom it’s so weird. I’m luckily close to my brother but considering he’ll be working most of the time, I’ll only get to see him once in a while. But I know that I’m here for a reason. I’m here to continue my educational life and succeed, all the while making the family proud. So even though it’ll bring me down from time to time, even though a sudden rush of homesickness will hit at random intervals, I am here for not only myself, not only the family, but I am here for her. The lady that has provided so much love and support and knowledge. The lady that held me when I hurt or cried that shared multiple laughs and that yelled at me or called me out on stupidity. I am here for her; I am doing this for my mom. 

Increasing Your Heart Rate

        Her hand clutched the back of my head as I was in between her legs giving the downstairs neighbor a wicked tongue lashing. The actions that transpired that night are blurry due to possibly the few beers, the excitement, or the fact that all the blood from my head headed south. It wasn’t just kissing and touching nor was it the penetrating and sweating. It was more than that, it was the conversation we had prior, the kisses to her forehead, the listening to music that made us feel something in that moment. It was the way our eyes kept meeting in between sentences and we couldn’t help but smile, it was the clothes she was wearing then not wearing. It was her laughter, the stupid jokes, the look on her face while she was on top of me and I thrust myself further inside of her. Hitting the exact target, the spot that made her clutch my shoulders and dig her nails into my chubby limb. It wasn’t just about her eyes or her hair or her ass. It wasn’t about the sex, it was about her and me just being fucking together and being just one solid unit. It was about leaving all of the bullshit behind, forgetting about the outside world for a split second and just concentrating on the synchronized movement of our bodies as we came closer and closer to that one last powerful moan, the final thrust, the grabbing her gently and laying her down on her back and kissing her the whole way down. See it was more than just sex; it was the passion and romance. It was about sealing whatever our relationship was even if it was only a temporary contract. It was about love... 

I Apologize for my Gender

Dear Ladies,

I apologize for my gender for treating you like pieces of meat. For treating the ones who are deemed “sexy” like something they think they can just put their dick in and those that are deemed “ugly” like trash. I apologize for them treating you like property and not like a human being. I’m sorry for all the bullshit cat calling and misogyny and for thinking that you all are nothing but items on a menu at Popeye’s.

I apologize for the abuse: sexual, physical, and mental. I apologize for those dirtbags who have taken advantage of you and the system fucks up every time and answered the deed with “boys will be boys.” No woman should have to go through that, I truly am sorry. What I’ve realized over the past couple of months that news has hit where men take drastic, mostly deadly measures against those women who “rejected” them is that the male group of humanity is fucking crazy. Now I’ll admit I have my temper when it comes to certain things and yes back in high school, I was one of those guys that chose body over brain any day and I would get rejected constantly but I wouldn’t hate the girls who did it, I would continue to be a good friend and step off with my advances.  As I matured, I realized that I admired the hell out of the female mind, it’s fascinating up there. Comedian Donald Glover once said in a stand up, “you know why you never hear a crazy boyfriend story? Because if you have a crazy boyfriend, you’re gonna die.” I mean everyone gets rejected, it’s fucking life. That’s no reason to go ape shit and kill people. The streets shouldn’t be covered in blood because a couple of assholes can't handle a tiny rejection. I’m sorry for all the bullshit that you have to deal with from men. I’m sorry they place you below them, when if we as a gender think about it, we all came from women. Without our mothers, grandmothers, etc we wouldn’t be jack shit. So why would we as men, treat the opposite sex badly or treat anyone badly for that matter? What the hell do we have to gain from it? We should be praising women for all they do. However this is just my opinion, I was always brought up to respect women…

Paint Me as a Villain/Problem with Authority

If I saw every manager and supervisor I've ever encountered,  I’d burn them alive by mixing battery acid into their gin and tonic, I've got a problem with authority. I have a problem with authority and not all authority but more work related. I have a problem with getting treated like I don’t fucking matter, that I’m below everyone, and I’m sure a lot of people feel like this but I can’t speak for them. I have a problem with authority in the sense that if I made a mistake that I know I made, don’t rub it in my face. Let’s be mature about this shit and move on. Don’t keep going and then be fucking surprised when my tone of voice becomes stern and serious because you decided you wanted to keep repeating whatever lame ass thing you were saying about the said mistake made. And I understand that my tone may come out stronger than anticipated so I will apologize, even though I don’t feel like I was in the wrong because I mean who the fuck likes getting picked on and talked down to? Don’t be a dickhead about my apology either. If I’m man enough to apologize, don’t accept it yet continue to spout off some nonsense that you think will “make me feel bad.” When in reality, I could give two fucks about what you think or what you have to say. They say never bite the hand that feeds you and I totally agree yet don’t be surprised when you mistreat what you’re feeding and then it suddenly bites off your leg from the knees. Weird rant I know but this damn job has officially gotten to me. 4 more weeks and I’m done. 

I'm Killing Me Trying to Kill You

I’m fighting the urge to call you even though I know if I do, you’ll just ignore it because, well because it’s me calling. I want to brag about the multiple women I have slept with just to prove to you that all of your bullshit has evaporated from my mind but in reality it’s all just fantasies and internet porn, hell I even began to have imaginary sex with my non-realistic red-headed curvaceous dorm mate who just so happened to greet me, naked. To my shock, the school had co-ed dorms which isn’t really shocking but when your dorm mate is that crazy gorgeous well then shit. Anyways, I want it to eat at you that shit has improved on my end. Like twins I want it to burn you like acid reflux when I ingest the deliciousness that is her spit. I want it to sting when I prick my finger on a motherfucking thorn except when I do I can’t help but vomit up the amount of tequila that you drank from the night before. Oftentimes, I pass by the mirror and see you on the other side, modeling some skimpy lingerie for some no nut having sack of shit that doesn’t even deserve you. More times than I’d like to admit, I’ll jerk forward or backward and I know that there’s nothing I can do about it but just wait for it to cease, I can however scream in agony that “this Fucking has to stop!” I want you to feel how bad it was to think, to breathe, hell to feel. I want you to forever picture what could’ve been and not what the hell is, I want you to remember those times you talked to me about your relationship troubles and all the sexual things you would tell me about the two of you and how my fucked up mentality would make the scenario that much more realistic. I want you to know about these things because when it was just the two of us, it was everything to me, but now it’s just nothing to you…

Grateful

      I came home from a tough day at work beaten and sore and I couldn't help but think of my old man who would bust his ass everyday to provide for his family. Sure some days were easier than others but the goal was always the same, it's not just for you but for those you love as well. Thanks for the life lessons, Pop...