I killed Pinocchio

2007-01-03T14:30:00.000-08:00

"Joe Wilson is a pervert and a threat to the moral foundations of this community. Just like herb, he too shall be exiled to Florida. "

-Dawn Patti

2006-12-07T01:59:00.000-08:00

HUMAN DECENCY

2006-12-05T19:21:00.000-08:00

I do not trust people I do not know. I do not fall in love after the first fuck. I don't really attach myself to razor blades these days. Drown in your own self pity and your self inflicted shit for all I care. Really. I don't. I am another statistic. I am one of those who will casually walk on by while you lay dead in the street decaying, and I will be gawking at you from the corner of my eye, but you do not deserve the dignity of a full stare.

I awoke in my bed around 2 in the afternoon... the sun beating down on me, I was sweating and my head was throbbing. My mouth so dry, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth.

Empty beer cans and used condoms. A pair of leopard print thong panties. I smirked. I love it when these decent whores leave me a trophy to flaunt to my audience.

I made my way to the kitchen and drank three glasses of water. Then, I took a cold shower. Got dressed and greeted the world with my head down and squinted eyes.

Hang overs and hot days do not mix. I had no idea where I was going this day. No great plans. Maybe find some shade down by the river. Maybe call this sweet beast that worked me last night and see if she was up for a round two, three, and four. No... it was too soon.

My cock was rubbed raw and my muscles were stiff from the work out. Plus I think I pulled a condom off and blew inside of her. Why do I flirt with these things? It felt like the thing to do at the time I suppose.

There was an old Mexican man, about 75 years old, crippled, who lived down the street from me. He sat out side of his apartment in his wheel chair all day every day. Every time I walked by I could feel his stare burning the side of my face but I always avoided eye contact with him. He lived with four younger Mexican men, and a middle aged woman... they seemed like quite the rowdy bunch, and I had heard rumors around the neighborhood that if I needed cocaine, I should go to them. I suspected that this old man was sick, and that he was not well taken care of.

I shuffled along his place only I noticed something very different. He was up on these two canes, making a mad dash from his wheel chair, to the vehicle parked in front of his apartment.

He staggered and struggled, then eventually lost his balance and fell face first into the street. He split his head open. He squirmed and cried to me something in Spanish.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" I yelled and I rushed to his aide.

He was a heavy fellow, but I picked him up over my shoulder and carried him back to his wheel chair.

Two police officers who were near by came over and asked me what was going on.

"I don't know..." I said. "I was just walking by and this guy fell."

They called an ambulance. They thanked me for assisting. "What was I supposed to do?" I asked. "Just leave him there?"

"Well... that's what most people would have done." The cop said. "Thank you again sir."

And for the first time in my life... I actually had a brief respect for the police.

I wandered around town... a little bit in shock... with this old mans blood smeared on my shirt. I did not pay attention to the awkward stares that came my way.

A couple days later, he was sitting out front, as usual with a bandage around his head. This time, I made eye contact with him. He raised his hand and nodded to me as if to say thank you. I waved back. He was trying to escape this hell. He was going to get in that car, crippled or not and go away. Even if it meant driving head on into a semi, or off of a cliff.

I felt cold. I contemplated getting a bottle of tequila and kidnapping this old man to Las Vegas. There, I will pump him full of booze and set him up with a hooker from off the strip. One final hoorah before the leaches put him to sleep like a dog. One last laugh and spurt of life.

Two weeks later I was in the neighborhood bar with some friends, taking shots and mocking the people with missing teeth.

I told my friend about the incident with the old man, and my plans to kidnap him to Vegas.

My friend turned quiet and said...

"You didn't hear what happened?"

"No... what?" I asked.

"Dude, he died two days ago."

I stopped talking.

I guess I do fall in love after the first fuck.

And that is my opinion on human decency.

YOU ARE NOTHING SPECIAL

2006-12-02T01:45:00.000-08:00

We are all decaying at the same rate, yet I see it all the time.

Pretentious artists and self proclaimed poets sounding off their trumpets off of a mere fraction of recognition.

And do not get me wrong. My ego flares from time to time most often when I am allowed to express to the reader... the other talents I can do with this pencil.

are you fucking me because I am a good writer or are you fucking me because I just might out live you?

SAVE IT.

This is a worthless emotion, along with jealousy and hatred.

YOU ARE NOTHING SPECIAL.

always remember that and you will always be two steps ahead of the leaches.

we are just maggots feeding on the same corpse.

we are all going to be put to sleep one day... and talked about in nothing else but rumors.

Your head is swollen.

You are disgusting.

Get away from me... you smell just a little bit funny.

yours truly

2006-11-30T02:48:00.000-08:00

my life is like sitting in the waiting room of the abortion clinic

2006-11-25T01:43:00.000-08:00

for nic

I lay my head on her tit and extracted every morbid detail and every fantastic dream from the confines of my soul, which had just been released.

Now I despise pillow talk.

I do not like being naked and venerable. I do not like to be put on display.

Moments before this, her legs were up in the air... her nails tore into the flesh off my back and she screamed towards the ceiling, "Oh my God! I want you to fucking cum inside of me!"

And before I fulfilled this terrible deed...

I still had my pride. I still had my wit and my intellect. I still had my cocked eye brow, my half grin, and my "fuck the world" gleam in my eye.

Then my fingers gripped her hair and pulled her head back

ten thousand tormented seeds took their lead.

And now... I was reduced to this pathetic greasy whore. A dumb beast. Falling into her endless pit with nothing to grab on to, to break my fall

face down.

I lay there... spilling my guts to this woman

as if I were on my death bed

writing my final sentiment to a world with no attention span.

I boast to my peers like a drug addicted ego maniac watching my life extinguish, that I would not allow the opposite of the species affect my mood.

But now... I was once confident and proud...

Now I feel like a double homicide would be very appropriate.

And there were only two of us in this room.

So what have you?

You have two choices now.

You can take a vacuum and suck me out of you...

Or you can take this little magic pill and I will DIE inside of you.

You can give birth to me in the toilet.

Have I ever told you that you make me feel so alive?

As time falls apart your life will spin out of control, you will forget my name, you will forget my face, and you will forget everything I have ever told you, in between the sheets of this confession.

You will become some one else.

I will always be the same.

I will forever be stuck between these 4 white walls, playing with guns, writing love poems, self absorbed

and slowly dieing from

boredom.

2006-11-23T03:14:00.000-08:00

2006-11-05T00:29:00.000-08:00

Anybody can drink their lives away.

However...

Very few can match my determination.

2006-10-19T00:00:00.000-07:00

Emasculated

2006-10-15T01:01:00.000-07:00

Each man kills the thing he loves,

by each let this be heard,

Some do it with a bitter look,

Some do it with a flattering word,

The coward does it with a kiss,

and the brave man with a sword.

-Oscar Wilde

Ballad of Reading Gaol

And then a line kind of pops into my head. Never assume you are the dumbest one in the room. However... Do not assume that you are the smartest neither.

I do not regret my child hood. My child hood was unique. It made me who I am.

It was a hard one just like the rest of them. Hiding under kitchen tables while these large thunderous legs stampeded around me. I was just a mouse.

Constant reminders mind you... That I was not good enough... smart enough... or fast enough. I was a problem. I was an over medicated thorn. A disease to the Modern Sleep.

Now I try to stay away from families and packs of wolves and leaches, because every individual seems to know the next one better than themselves. Clowns self appointing themselves as some kind of Judge. Every body has an opinion and their two pennies to throw in. Everybody is afraid to make fun of themselves. Or hurt themselves... You should try it sometime. It builds character.

And i got sick of this... and I grew out of this nonsense... and I became this performer of the sorts. A juggler juggling my words and insecurities.

Preforming my Emasculation to the sometimes confused yet curious masses...

And sometimes I was beautiful... and then sometimes I was hideous... sometimes both, depending on which mood so struck me at the moment. And sometimes... Most of the time... i was too fucking drunk to remember which face I decided to wear for the evening.

And I fell in love with so many curious and cute and naughty little girls... I lifted them up to the sky with dreams and false expectations... then brought them so terribly down, to the ground, and forced them to dig their own graves, while I watched them, and played with myself..

So many nights feeling tequila burning my esophagus, into my stomach... into my soul... reflecting my hatred... Stumbling down the road...

I see a pay phone. I call her number. She answers. She hurt me. I was not good enough for her. I don't remember what i say. I say something to the effect though...

something she will never forgive me for. Something that will burn in her memory probably until the day she dies. And in that moment... I feel satisfaction.

"I have purchased a new coat hanger for our next abortion you wretched whore!"

That was cruel. Yes I know this. I am a cruel person... when tequila is involved. When this strange woman hurts me to the point she taps into this exquisite childhood.

I Laugh about it five minutes after the fact

and then

curl up in some darkness and cry about it in my own solitude. And this time I never seem to come out of it. I just stay there. A stoned drone moving down the assembly line, I see more and more Lemmings goose stepping off the cliff... where at once I bounced to the side mocked and heckled them...

Now I am to weary and exhausted to do anything else but follow... and follow. No one was really hearing what I was trying to say. And even if they did... they were too afraid... and frankly... so was I.

I can not believe I have hurt some people the way I have.

I can not believe they would do this to me...

I am forever trapped under that table avoiding being trampled unfortunately. Avoiding you, avoiding them, I have been castrated... so I do not need to worry about being hurt by another female.

I bleed from my dick when I cum. It is not too pretty... and yes... it is very painful.

And Ironically... in the midst of this dull depression I did indeed meet this woman who does everything in her power, and goes out of her way just to make me smile.

endless blue eyes

Delicate white skin, She was true to her self and her surroundings...

If I penetrated this beauty with my wound... it would ruin everything...Like it has ruined everything... They do not like to feel me bleed inside of them...

There is A Genuine Woman.

Finally.

We play...

We flirt...

We give one another the "eye"

but as soon as I held her hand she broke out into this terrible rash

and she gasped

"What have you done to me?"

Then she died.

2006-10-14T04:53:00.000-07:00

2006-10-13T13:28:00.000-07:00

it is not easy being green

2006-10-13T00:18:00.000-07:00

Irony...

Look it up.

2006-10-12T14:13:00.000-07:00

the confession of a dead man

2006-10-09T02:22:00.000-07:00

I have no time in this short life of mine to amuse these fucking peacocks.

Little spread eagle girls and blow hard poets, running a death marathon to ensure

the idea

that they will be sealed inside of a grand golden immortal casket.

I have no time for these death/mirror mongers.

television and plastic surgery.

John F. Kennedy ripping a rail of coke off of Marilyn's titties.

Welcome to America!

Where the fuck did I put my gun?

You are all a bunch of fucking monkeys.

I once believed in the concept of inner beauty.

I once believed I owed some kind of debt to that abstract thing we all collectively know

as KARMA.

And now... I look across this watered down waste land we are apart of...we have created...

and I am here to tell you...

Karma is a fucking whore selling her pussy on the corner for 20 bucks a pop.

trust me. I spent 40 on the bitch last night...

Karma owes me 25 years.

The shallow cunt.

I will take each aborted fetus she has had sucked out in between those foul legs

and dip them into my wine before I consume.

This is the blood of Christ.

Shed onto you...

Sinner.

DEFLORATION

2006-10-08T01:33:00.000-07:00

I was seeking refuge in that fucking gap in between her legs.

Little did I know... those sweet lips that massaged me to epic proportion

had razor blades for teeth.

this psychotic bitch fucking CASTRATED ME.

In this condition, I was slipping in and out of conscience and sub-conscience. Images... and flashes before my eyes.

Falling from a building to a vast body of water... this seems to be my common nightmare.

And then strangely enough... awaking from some deep sleep... on my back... strapped to some gurney, a blinding white light, all the while... a team of doctors circled around me, gazing upon me behind those masks... eyes horrified... as if my awakening was not oh so welcome nor premeditated.

And I lift my head and try to ask "What is wrong?" but it is hard to do so because I have like this long tube taped to my mouth and shoved down my throat...

And as my focus settles... I look down to see my chest cavity split wide open and I can see my heart... my lung... and my large intestine. I had awoken to some kind of fucking open heart surgery... but what was it these fucking swine were exactly looking for?

naturally, a state of shock takes effect. I begin ripping my organs out and throwing them at the dumb founded medical staff screaming: "You fucking Leaches!"

Then it is dark. back to reality in this hollow circular toilet bowl... looking at my self eye to eye through the reflection of the water. I burped.

Truly this was the closest encounter, and closest memory I will ever have with my own birth. My own mistaken creation.

And then it comes. Raping my insides as it follows, I let out this gut wrenching bellow, and my reflection is blinded by purple, pink, and even traces of bloody chunks, coming splattering back into my face.

A moment of clarity.

My body collapses on the bathroom floor... room spinning about... as I attempt to catch my breath.

That was horrible. Yet I feel so much better.

Nicole comes rushing into the bathroom panic stricken and providing me a level of discomfort as she wraps this cold towel around my shaking body.

"I'm calling an ambulance." She announces.

"No... don't call a fucking ambulance." I replied.

With all my not so physical ability, I stood up, threw the towel off of me... stumbled into the kitchen area and poured another drink. Vodka and Orange Juice.

She followed me. Eyes falling to her cheeks. "So what... you are just going to sit here and kill your self?"

"Yea... sure... why not... sounds like fun." My hands trembled as I spilled the glass and poured Vodka all over the counter and on to the floor.

"Joe... your nose is bleeding... what are you on?"

I held the glass stable... and poured a stiff drink... only to be consumed with one barbaric swallow...

"Just some pills my friend Matt gave me." I replied. "I think it's Oxycontin."

"Joe, don't you realize that you are going to fucking die if you keep doing this to your self? I mean look at you... you look as though you have already died days ago. Have you looked in a mirror lately?"

"Nah! I am invincible! I am young... strong and..." I felt my stomach turn and my cheeks tingle. I made a dash to the bathroom again. This time I had shit my self towards my destination. And for some reason... I thought about the Tellatubies as Nicole held my head back and I dry heaved into the Porcelain God.

Nicole helped me into the shower and the water was freezing. I puked two more times in the bath tub.

"I am calling an ambulance!" She announced again. But I beat her to the phone in the living room. Pulled the receiver from her hand and threw the fucking thing against the wall.

"I'm cool. I fucking hate hospitals. I have spent my entire life around them... that is the worse thing you can do for me at this point." I explained.

"Well I can't just sit here and watch you destroy your self!" She plead.

I kissed the side of her face instead of her lips. I had puke breath and sweat. "You are so beautiful baby." And I smiled. Then I burped.

I returned to the kitchen and began slamming the Vodka straight out of the bottle.

Nicole's back met the wall and she slid down it slowly and began crying.

Like I said I was face to face with my birth... and as cruel as this may have seemed... in another instance... it was pure.

I staggered to her, fell to my knees and embraced her.

"Why are you doing this to me?" She whimpered.

"I am not doing this to you... I am doing it to me... When I die will you take spray paint and properly decorate my head stone?"

"Anything you want baby... Anything... just please don't do this to your self.... You are hurting me!" Tears streamed down her face.

But if only she understood.

Tough love. It is something I have grown immune to. A word that has engraved it's self into my vocabulary.

I stuck two fingers up her skirt and masturbated right there on the kitchen floor. I came on her little black dress.

She did not respond to this.

I hurled two more times and fell asleep on the bathroom floor.

She doesn't talk to me much any more.

I do not think she will be attending my funeral and eating up all of the free food, let alone spay painting obscene messages on my head stone...