westid

i can give you what you want. they want to lock me away forever, lost my keys, done it myself. throw away the key, never have to look at me – it took them three years but they finally did it. outta the yard on my own, the cashier at the pharmacy was still laughing about it with my case worker on line 1 and a service using member of the public, who just so happened to magically know all the intricacies and inadequacies; piss takingly not relevant to the fact that this is a drug abstinence service, yet up to date enough to ask me about shit i haven’t even told anyone because it was none of their fucking business – of my hopeless quest to get help with my mental health

lo, don’t be misled – romance is not dead – it will never die – and neither will i

i didn’t lie, i let things like that fuck with me for a bit when they happen – do you remember something i might or might not have said the other week the people that can’t help themselves. currently i am going through some vanilla to the point of winning a darwin award compared to everything my readers have been doing to themselves, i’m sure [did not need to read through much of it to confirm]; despite still being alive it would probably still be awarded posthumously [i’m sure] yet incidentally somehow ended up being purpose-fulfilling; this arbitrary amplification of anhedonic nihilistic hybrid nightmare-tedium. where me and my bender asexually anal-retentive born-again virgin pathetically self-denying “principles” can just sit in a quiet corner for the rest of my life watching attenborough-narrated wildlife documentaries, while anytime i peer outside i am left with no alternative but to watch all these people drown in an ocean of vitamin D and clitoric acid. like i got a warning for missing my appointment the other day with the wicker man. every time i come out the chemist every morning all the helmshore people are just out there on the grass fucking everywhere i look, when i glance down at my daily instalment of vitriol trying desperately everyone else is enjoying shit the way i had no shame about doing and having the time of their lives in the same fashion i was blissfully “positive attitude” about – seriously any of you out there when you write in, feel free to throw in a quick complacently rationalisable reason why the fuck i should waste another second not mainlining the fuck out of myself with massive and deliciously mainlinable copious amounts of beautiful, faithful, loving, kind, thoughtful, sensitive, forgiving, as beautiful to watch from afar as is world savingly wonderful, inifuriatingly confidfent, curious, decisive yet maintaining in enigmatic, inspiring, intellectual, impossible to ignore, hhhaaaatred just slides away and reverses completely, proliferating polarity such that secrets and strength of will comes spewing out of me, ethereally absorbed and glowing with the very essence taken from me – until now i weren’t in deep, tables are turning down inside though. no capacity to visualise what it could look like someone with such a prominently broadcasting X chromosome, to be even fluked into bringing down a peg or two – but totally gets away with it such that there is no hope for you

if they could make something like that i’d be honoured to live my life full timing it until i had earned the privilege of this unbelievable essence take its place of honour on the certificate of my death. if they could create a person like that i probably wouldn’t give a fuck what it make me look like – but i probably wouldn’t get anyone’s hopes up, and politely ask them to please stop asking for fucking photographs, you know the rules – say if this [could only be genetically engineered gattaca style sort of impossible surely to naturally conceive] happened and come anywhere near me for some reason, hypothetical narrative proceed- i feed their undisclosed and so suavely enigmatic / suddenly tingling like fuck in every suddenly overcharged erogenous unguessably captivating place, psychedelically manifests as painted patches in bright colour so anyone who sees this knows just where none of these fucking parochial peasants are allowed to know, too late though – because body was a bit more than language in my [obviously compromised, delusional, ridiculous, bluffing, you gave it away] in nature and seeing the unmistakable, unhideable, undeniable and immediate reciprocity of being fucking gam. why someone would deny themselves that is a question people have been asking me all my life. no one could pretend even if they tried to, the way giving superiority and actualisation my shock horror helpless peril flooded through all manner of perception and completely lit up in this disgusting, decadent, ground breakingly gratifying reception. it didn’t even cross my mind though why ruin something like that because someone and some old boot who tried to ruin my life once have a connection? when nothing about such a person who obviously would reign supreme the only – though it’s sad i know – thing that would have ever felt anything close was in this dream – there was a load of that gunge they used to have in the 1990s, but now with the technologically enhanced tantalising tactical sensation that came with it’s glorious comeback now, that i would have to really reach all my life until this – i would have to make sure foolishly easy going submerged someone all over their body somehow

it’s not all bad though, since such a person doesn’t really exist, and in addition to that – you’re not me…

some very imaginative literature inspired by my glorious fictionalisation of my current [starts to ooze from the behaviourally conditioning compulsively coming up everywhere it knows you don’t want to let those thoughts in there; into the room around happily docile “it’s in the bag now we can stop trying” matrimonially imaginative life. across the room – a device projecting the ghostly zombie-like glazed over lust-lock on her face. so reinforced in behaviour the swiping and scrolling is so unbearable when you try to stop, but so gripping when you find; quietly completely telling of subliminally activated sexual escalation, yet just being nosy on her tablet talking to her parish congregation – the wife. hiding in plain sight, as the petrified inability to move will make sure no one – albeit [hubby / him] locked into an ironically equally oblivious moment of their own generally eminating from the big screen everyone has to listen to / watch – notices this feeling that would be impossible to prove, but fucking annoying right now if interrupted by something stupidly un-necessary all night up until now, like having to move ~~

darkened aside from the one other casting glare, television numbs the mind of the erstwhile yet carefully unmentioned “other half” in some anodyne (but not lying) way which somehow does not take the prominently possible prospect of extracurricular encounter, seminars down at the [local occurrence of popular gastro-pub] with the girls, on second thought surge after surge of extramarital impulses to discover, insidiously creeping into the intoxicatingly rendered slurred rubric – think my head is feeling a bit dizzy, getting a bit busy here in this booth wouldn’t be a big deal some of us might touch one another – don’t seem to be gettin the possessive excessive tonight from [him [by now only referred to as a briefly evasive of short term memory pronoun]] while back at home he’s coming up with some excitement of his own, fuckin hell what is this an episode of emmerdale? but i’m not proud to admit that some of the things all these people take the piss [but can’t resist coming to quietly ask me where they can find it] how the fuck would i know? anything i needed to be – you will never meet anyone else in your life that could ever become – even if you give me that there has never been anyone ever i couldn’t win the erotically wonderful to completely lose, desperate trice you hopelessly tried to drag me into yet ended up sliding towards me ruse that not everyone has a vice living inside them – would you think that life is worth living if you don’t let yourself go an completely immerse yourself and slide them in between the lines where you would need to hide them – but all of a sudden you don’t feel so perfect any more, and if i see that spark of corruption – for a while at least, enjoy it properly, let it fuck with my head in ways you would probably think you’re too good for – you will see when you show that to me or come to tease in whatever way you become the only thing one mongified mortal male mind sees, that all you bring out in yourself is the interaction that transcends; what began one completely innocent and innocuous untainted mind, slowly but surely you will feel inside desperately trying to cling on to any last hope of trying to hide, becomes an irresistible, insatiable, unbelievably subservient part of who you are – such that you are pulled helplessly by your deepest most demanding part of the darkness of your mind – and once that feeling hits you in that place you will know when it does, then you’re past the point of no return and that’s what your self control will melt for and your perfect indestructible incarnation of innocence will be forever tainted by the feeling you could only get from someone who feeds on that kind of frustrating arrogance

arrogance has to be earned. it’s not personal or related to this – but i have to be emotionally detached for a while. i need to be strong for someone else i’ll register to in the first place, but they need me to be what – similarly, actually – they’re struggling to find that source of what they need, which they are beginning to realise no one else can provide in such abundance and in anywhere near the desire to give. not everyone can resist the compulsive instinct to save face than co-incide and maintain that X knows Y place while a bit of pre-emptive and well meditated aforethought from the fundamental premise: all that pride itself – when it’s somehow outwardly displayed, not always consciously doing it, i think – is a decoy; a defensive sort of ploy so that all the nuclear zero-sum game kind of shit that would probably destroy me in such a way that walking buckets of used tampons come it with i’m damaged; i pick people who don’t need me and sometimes — after having given myself in purgatory for things i couldn’t live with knowing i had done that no one else would have been tormented by their conscience / just don’t have one, where at times i barely escaped alive i knew deep inside – i only think i know everything, so from now on shall this happen again i’ll dismiss any emotional volley, and turn up the dissociative noise because if i matter to anyone [and i did once or twice] they should always have the chance to be nice even if it turns out to be burningly hostile retribution, someone with the power and respect to land that sort of thing on me are usually clever enough to do it with or without my real delusion – in the disbelief that no, i can see it and if i was wrong it would never have come out like it did; but i don’t give a fuck about being right or winning some sort of mutually destructive annihilation trying to fuck one another up because when all is said and done – and fuckin helll some RIGHT people have had their fun particularly with this one- i can’t help but see this sort-of indication of pain i just want to take away someone who came my way could be free again, and no matter how much you hate me or whatever that’s the only thing i ever wanted to be

N.B. i don’t wallow in self pity because I don’t need it, no one likes me even though most of them have never met me. but a phenomenon that i have determined is only unique to the town in which i live and the area beside the river ogden called helmshore, sometimes or after a while an enemy will choose to be reight with you again because even when they were supposed to be at war like a couple of cunts, it was still a piss take and a laugh – it’s the people who love me in fact, i find – have a way of winding some people up severe, maybe lately that’s why i appear to have made a mark – it’s not often i see gam for what it is, maybe that kind of insolent spark i would not have expected could have invited such annihilation or assassination, rendered an example – this is what happened shortly before this cunt had brutally paid the ultimate price when a nice friendly sounding voice led him outside where he appears to have died in a biblical blaze spontaneously combust a burning bush