New Revelations from a whore and the unloved

Voices say you “lost it” on someone at the hostel in Boston I assume and then you had “sex” with them over and over.

Voices say this is another person you’re trying to convince to “get over it” or that whatever happened was just what it was and nothing more.

Work is busy today, or at least there’s an incident that needs a bit more attention than most days.

I don’t know what to feel, or what to think. I almost stayed in bed all day but I remembered I have responsibilities if not to my job than to myself, so I got up, did a shot of mouth wash, got dressed. I recently got a haircut so I didn’t brush my hair, it’s so low you could barely call it hair but still.

I had a little dream about you last night though, we were together in bed, but I forget what we were chatting about.

It felt good to think of you fondly, and I think that’s what I hate the most.

Not that I think about you, but that I still feel for you. And after all this time, after all that I’ve done, and what you haven’t done, that I can still feel “good” about “us.”

But maybe that’s the key to a strong marriage, one person that doesn’t quit.

One person that wants to do the right thing.

One person that will be there through thick and thin.

While the other one rots, is unfaithful, comes and goes as they please.

Who do I even blame for the “warm and fuzzies” myself? You?

I am who I am, and I’ve accepted that, but still.

I have nothing to say

And yet I find the words.

Love songs.

Poems.

Anger.

My love,

My hate,

And all of my sorrow.

I have that to you,

And no one else.

If that’s not enough,

Please,

Just let me move on.

In the next life,

Maybe,

Just maybe we’ll talk about it,

As long as the wheel turns.

And the sun,

Rises in the sky.

Getting what I want

Yeah, a long life full of whores and narcotics.

Halle-fucking-lujah!

Image Dump in a few minutes. I’m eating.

Edit: I had forgotten about the image dump cause I’m reading for class, here it is:

“Congratulations Nigger”

Those were the words the voices in my head told me had come from Howard, a neo-Nazi.

They keep saying you don’t want to be American.

They keep talking about divorce. Or at least in this moment they were.

They say you have nothing to say to me, or you don’t know what to say.

Honestly I don’t even know why that transmission was so fucking clear, it was coming right out of my phone as I was going through the memes my friends had sent me throughout the day.

Regardless, they say you don’t want to be in America/Boston because you’d be “turned all the way up.”

In all these situations the only weapon, the only option I seem to have is these words.

Writing writing and more writing.

To clear my head.

Because this barely inspires any art I would like to make.

edit:

There’s a voice outside my window trying to convince me that it’s you… why would you be so close and so far away?

You have every avenue to reach me and you choose to be in this city and ignore me or run away from me at every turn?

If that is you, which I doubt, then you don’t want to be with me.

Be with whomever your heart desires.

Do what your heart desires.

I just want what’s best for you.

And a dialogue, obviously.

Australia, Again

Voices are going back to that girl on the train, saying it was your maiden name.

Saying anyone wearing that pink jacket you had would be you.

Anyone small enough to fit in that jacket is bulimic.

Saying they were the one putting bugs on kids arseholes.

Saying that you wouldn’t written them a cheque to keep quiet about that form of molestation.

Saying that Asian guy that said “nice hat” before I walked by that girl is your Australian ex.

Saying he expected or wanted me to come out of the closet…

Competition

Why is there a competition in my head between “people that want me to get over you” VS “someone who never wants me to get over you”

What the fuck.

Voices say you had to give some (wow I can’t believe I just realized this…) “Radiohead” to get your masters degree…

Really… like the band?

Are you serious…

OKay...

Now the voices are “telling” or rather, COMMANDING me to write things out when I hear them, regardless of how I feel about the information.

Fuck this.

Edit: It’s literally a fucking song… “Don’t Save her, She don’t wanna be saved” etc etc

Edit: Voices say you didn’t want me to smoke weed because I’d see you laughing your ass off.

I remember seeing that. I’m still alive.

I also saw someone giving you a “peal necklace” as opposed to just ejaculating on your collar bone.

And I saw you getting fucked doggy.

And at some point some skinny version of you implied to be fucking Steinar.

I hate this so much.

And of course the voices will say “That was someone else” and of course I know Nordic people are the Chinese People of Europe (AKA You all Look the Same) but can I just be fucking done with this?

Desire

Voices are saying you are “one-upping” me by having sex with other people. That your body count is at least 22.

You have white privilege.

No matter where you go in the world you will always be desired.

I unfortunately can’t compete with that, being a large black male.

That’s just how racism works.

And sure, maybe you’d say “Oh if you were in my country you'd be a big fish blah blah blah”

WELL THE LAST TIME I WENT TO YOUR COUNTRY YOU CALLED THE FUCKING COPS ON ME, AND NOW THEY’RE LOOKING TO SEE IF I EVER RETURN AND WILL KEEP ME IN JAIL FOR UP TO 6 MONTHS, SO YOU FUCKED THAT UP FOR ME TOO!

Oh but I know you, you’re the type of person that only has arguments/battles that you can win.

Well tou-fucking-ché, bitch.

Vacuum Cleaner/Wave Fist

Voices are talking about you again.

They make it sound like in every scenario you exist in, in the end you always commit suicide.

Like we have to travel the multiverse to see if there’s a life where you live into old age or some shit.

They were talking about when you (if you) gave birth to your daughter when the cleaning lady at work turned on the vacuum cleaner and I couldn’t hear anything after that, just the vacuum…

I wish the vacuum was on all day.

Edit: To borrow from Marvels “What if” series on Disney+ (the streaming service) episode 4 season 1, voices make it sound like your suicide is an “Absolute Point” in time.

The catalyst to what however, I do not know.

I know I for one am not becoming a “super hero” because of it. Wonder who is…

Edit: Voices keep saying you knew who you wanted to be with in the year 2005. That I can be with “anyone I want” but you cannot.

Comfort Zone

Voices keep saying if I was like your “father” then id be over or under someone else.

What they don’t understand is that, living the life I used to live would just bring more pain into the world, now that you’re a constant thought in my head again.

Pain from my heart.

Physical pain of headaches trying to block you out.

Emotionally distant from my partner and their own distress.

I don’t want to live like that, and it’s far easier for me to just be alone.

I’m used to that.

I understand that.

I’m not bothering anyone with this silly little blog no one reads.

I’m not causing strife or even “reupholstering” someone’s lovers vagina so that they have to instruct them on how to be fucked in the future.

I’m fine on my own.

A familiar, solitary trail.

Plots and Schemes

Voices want me to write out things that will either prevent or cause tragedies in your life.

It’s your life, you live it the way you want to live it, I’m sick of being slave to these thoughts in my head so I’m gonna try something different.

I’m just gonna write about how annoying this shit is, or maybe I’ll write a poem, or some prose, maybe nothing will make sense at all.

Cause as much mayhem as you fucking want, just don’t bring any of it my way.

Peace and Love.

Edit: Voices say I scare you, and my therapist said the same thing. Good. Stay away, take care of yourself, your family, I gave you all the keys to start building a financially stable future for you and yours truly.

I just want to clear my head and you won’t give me that. 🎶 “Okay Fine Whatever” 🎶

You know everything I’ve ever had to fucking say and everything I will ever say again.

I just want the madness to stop. I want to keep living at the end of the day.

My Death

Voices say I will kill myself by getting back into a relationship with (insert your name)

Life was fun. I don’t regret anything.

edit: Voices say you speak English the way you do cause you wanted to live in London.

Voices say you cheated on Howard at a hostel in London.

Voices say I would make you a lesbian.

Voices saying a lot.

Music you can "Feel"

No one will ever understand how inadequate you are or feel through “Black Metal.”

I don’t know who I’m writing to right now but I gotta get this out of my head.

“Black Metal” in itself I feel has one emotion: Anger. If you can stick to that then whatever, but you can’t even understand the lyrics. What the fuck else could you possibly “feel” ???

Have you tried making “Phonk” instead?

As a subgenera and the active EDM scene it’s music designed to be turned all the way up so people get on drugs and LITERALLY feel the sound waves at a show or club and it makes me move.

Granted I don’t know how many emotions can be attuned to this genre of music but it has to be a bit more than just straight up anger?

What fucking Black Metal song could make you sad? happy? Nervous? (Maybe) the list goes fucking on!

Do something else with your life you fucking loser.

Edit:

Metal is Dead. It had it’s own Apocalypse and it was an animated TV show.

So let me get this straight...

Voices are saying you’d get back together with me to burn my house down, slit my wrists and commit suicide just because I “ruined your life” and now I’m “someone you can’t forget about” ?

Thanks but not thanks.

edit:

Edit: Voices say you blocked me because you cheated on me or felt like you cheated on me.

And what, you can’t own up to that? You just block the person so you never have to take accountability.

Yeah you told me you couldn’t be strong but I didn’t think you’d be this fucking weak.

But all things considered another girl I’ve dated did the same thing. Blocked me everywhere, and when I confronted her about it maybe two weeks ago now instead of sending a message to me she sent a message to my brother, to tell me.

Please don’t tell me you’re that fucking stupid too.

Edit: Back to the story of you loving me, but I’m represented as your “fathers” penis, and to “love me” you perform fellatio on it.

Very weird, strange, but they did drop the truth bomb a few nights ago that it was “someone else” and I pondered for a bit, “yeah, what did happen to the girl that stayed with the Indian?”

If she was tangible, a real person, not a radio form body, the voices imply that SOMEONE had to foot the bill, and it was Steinar, I guess, so she has to “pay what she owes” and in that regard it’s paid back, or majority of things have had to have been paid back sexually.

edit: Voices are still going on about “making Black Metal” and that me writing out the horrors of your waking life, or someone else’s, steals the inspiration to make their songs or something like that.

If the inspiration can be stolen so easily, again, why not just make the lyrics up? Why not just read this blog and think about how you feel? Why is it tied to a real life persons emotional/neurological response? Why can’t it just be disturbing lyrics? Tyler the Creator?

What the fuck makes “Black Metal” so special that all the lyrics have to be inspired by real life events?

Couldn’t it just be history?

Mother fucking there’s a band called “The Protomen” that make up lyrics based on the “Megaman” franchise games from the company Capcom.

That world is entirely fiction, and they add to it by making the lyrics about an even more dystopian setting.

Why the fuck can’t they just do that instead?!

Shitty fucking music I stg…

Symptom Stopper

Voices say you wanted me to stop having psychosis, and it feels like it’s happening right now, idk that or I’m getting enough sleep.

They still say that you’re going to kill yourself, which is sad in a way, but we both know how powerless I am when it comes to you doing the things you want to do.

Maybe I’ll see you in the next life.

Take care.

Car Accident in Boston

Voices say the day you were in Boston, when you let go of my hand and ran into the street, when the car almost hit you, if I had a credit card you would’ve taken it to buy a ticket to, somewhere, idk, and have run away from me.

I vaguely remember giving you my wallet but still…

It’s fucked up, but what isn’t fucked up in my head right now.

I don’t want to think or have to care about this.

Like yeah it’s a bad hit but I’m not even certain about what freaked you out so badly. Like I know why I saw, thought and felt but that girl is dead now… and even if she weren’t it’s not as if I can co front her about it, because apparently everyone doing this shit has no recollection of the events, or is lying to me.

So you can see and understand just how maddening this is for me.

Anyway.

Edit: They say “Steinar” “turned all the way up” to get you to steal my credit card. Glad I didn’t have one back then…