But they match, twist, and turn around. My aching heart for selfish, kid like fun, such as mmos(Massive multiplayer online videogames). And annoying sacristy, the human, reactive mind. Culture, drama, vs reality and mundanity. What a curious life form humans are. What evil jerks and lazy creatures we can become. What wonderful angels and saviors of not only humanity, but life itself can be saved by our actions alone. For we have the power to save all life, and our civilization, or to end it. We structure ourselves into many different communities. We have evolved so much that we hath created a network of wires to socialize with the whole wide world. Where ever we have access to this great level one information system, which we call the internet,which hath the power to break and extend relationships.
Unless of late. Here is my life story. From Kindergarten. To the incoherent mess of in between my school years. To the averaged now.
Oh, how my heart weeps for the wasted time I have spelled. For my heart aches for adulation, but mind is still angry with the past and current present. For Why would such a famously put loudmouth by elected at our current time. Ah, my avoidant love life. My disconnect from certainty with my love life. Some cause to cause harm. Some just by accident. For this essay will be about my love life. From childhood, to adolescence, to adulthood. Let’s begin.
I was alone and crying. I had no reason or comprehension of the reason why I was crying, but I was. It gone like this. “Sean, you’re going on the cats bus today.” “Why, what” started my four year old self. I cried and cried. But I went on the bus. And had no reason as to why I went on the bus. Still don’t. I still took the bus when I was very little. I am not in-love with cars but I am in love with transport. In-love with travel and new discovery. One of my many addictions. What angres this local. What really upsets this other local. How not to angre the chieftain’s daughter to the point of death.
The concept and conception of transport entices me of the curiosity of the new transport system, the hyperloop. How it may kill us all if a bullet hit it by accident. Or how or how it will revolutionize the world by allowing us to travel to LA in only forty minutes. If it will change society. Will minature microcosms such as Prescott and Cottonwood still exist. Will they be able to survive and flourish under this faster umbrella of transport. Will they evolve into bigger, but not always better, regiopolis. That is all.
The day I put my name in the girl’s name slot. I saw another kid put his name into the name slot. That name slot was for girls. Ah, how even as a four to five year old in preschool, I still felt inclined to support my feelings for a cultural concept yet to be. Even though it may or may have been a construct for many years. Transgender I am still not. For I was born, and still proudly support, beards. My love of beards go out far more than my leaning of changing identity. My fear and non-fear of change will congeal. Beards and long hair are the enemy of our current culture under Trump. I was lead and bleeded into a life full of discrimination of beards and long hair combine. To be a female competing to exist. To disguise myself. But alas. I am still a child.
The day I poop my pants, and cried all day. It was a cool september morning. I was five and still in preschool. Mid-1. morning, I pooped my pants. And I cried. I cried long and hard. I cried long, hard, and loud for several non-sequitur minutes. Then by noon my dad came by to pick me up.
My life has started from this moment. This was the day my life started. The dance. The tango, that change my life and awaken my eyes. My first dance. It was the dance with my first crush. But around the edge of highschool, she broke my heart. But for that first long months of Kindergarten, she was my crush, my first love. My one and only.But lazy fate has a dastardly spin to hell. There were others. Barbaric humans. Always addicted to hate, bigotry, treason, and getting to the next destination.
During the edge of the spring time, I was happy, upset, and all and all, a kindergartener. But something caught my eye the moment I laid eyes on it. And that was bell. A sweet blonde girl of snapey complexions. Whimsical and bright, she had it all, and will have it all the moment of the inbetween of high school. But evil fate curse me with fear. Now back to Kindergarten. Kindergarten was like Kindergarten. It was both a good and evil place. I cried. The 1. place we liked to hang out was the playroom. It was a reward for finishing math class. There we played. We played, and acted. I don’t remember much. I do know she called me stupid. That we played at the playground. And at the intermediate path between junior and senior year, I ran away from her. If that was her. Maybe it have not been. But thoses few moments when I was a child made up for the dullness and forgo tivity that was elementary, until I Ran away from a girl and avoided her for a long time after she kissed me.
It was a sunny afternoon. It was the second grade, and we had a break. The teacher was a fan of softball, but me, not so much. We had a collection of students who either can play softball, or chose to stay on the bleachers. Another guy decided he too would stay on the bleachers. I stayed on the bleachers as well. A few moments gone by. My Kindergarten crush, and a bunch of her friends were talking. I was minding my own bussiness. But as the conversation escalated, Some girl kissed me on the arm. I was still pokedokakaly poking around, when my kindergarten crush annoyance escalated, I looked down on my arm, it was covered with lipstick. I did not care until a few minutes afterword, then cared cosmically. Since that encounter on my arm, I avoided her for a whole year. Not my first avoidance, and it won’t be the last. Until the day I left school at the third grade. This shall be the transition into high school. And choice filled rejectful love life.
It was the day I came back from christmas break. I was relaxing, but the teacher instructed us to write and complete our work faster and faster and faster. Until I broke down. I couldn’t take it. When I walked home from school, My dad screamed about the corruption and heartbreak school causes. And that was the end of that. The end of a current dream. And adventure to games. Games stuff. And satellite tv stuff. Stuff of all kinds. Move love. Maybe play time with the girl. But no real love for quite some time. But I met a kid name wit (not his real name) when I went back to school. That was where i was for four years. I philosophise if I was straight or gay.
I supported this kid. But he betrayed me. Just like Judas. Aw, Judas. The friend of Jesus who betrayed his best friend, Jesus. What a betrayal it was. A sad, hopeless betrayal. First there was him. And then countless times. Me. I love being Judas. Judas is power. Judas is hope. Judas is the light. Judas is the happiness. Ah Judas. Judas the rock star. Judas the adventurer. Judas the savior. Judas the redeemer. Judas the dumb. Judas the bright. Everybody hates, like, cares, and indifferent to this biblical hero, villain, stronger, and neutral star. This angel from heaven. This demon from hell. Judas be my husband. Ah, Judas. The smartass of non-boredom, and money holding. Judas the hero of legend. Judas. He was Judas at first. That kid. But I am Judas. I became Judas. For I am the Juda. Sexual favors from small town kids. I am the Juda. And the Juda has nothing. The buddha of judas has absolutely nothing. Judas the rad, cool dude. Judas, the jackoff. My time of princedom is yet to come. Judas, Judas, Judas. Judas is the failure. And the redeemer. He saved and cursed the world. But my time to be him is yet to come. Judas. Oh baby. Judas.
Judas was only a crafter of a greater force of evil. Which is me. I am the great Judas from legend. I am the judas. Nobody can outsmart the judge. Nobody can out dumb the judas either. For the judas lives in all of us. And all of us in Jude. He describes and failed us all. He is the great Jackoff. The herotic of all annoying herotics. Freshmen year, around my birthday, was the year of great tribulation. It was the year. The year I lost my first crush. Down the pit of despair, down the pit of tribulation, has my crush gone. Down, down, down, down. Down she gone to a rabbit hole her size. Down, down, down, down. Down a rabbit hole her size. It was monstrous. Horrible. Stupendous, and deary. Stupid to end. I let it be. And I saw her make-out with him. I heard her make noises. What a scared and stupid person I was. What a lazy and stupid person I became. What stupid actions I still consider in. Stupidity is the might of all evil. All herold. Happiness is a small time in a venture of emotion and fortitude. For the mountain and the sea our vast. I have only force my way into something. Rapey that, and suspicious the other way. Ah rapey the God damn. But the year of the weapon.That year of the weapon. It was a year. It was not the worst of years. Nor the best of years. I had woman who still liked me. It was my fault for declaring my existence to this girl. My existence to this girl. And I was lonely later. I was happy slubbing through college. The most dead of all emotions. Dead as a door nail.
Many religions have a conception of the soul, and the conception of death. The west conquered a land full of many heavens. But Jesus’s great accomplishment of recruitment to the poor and destitute was his promise of the kingdom of heaven. A place beyond this earthly realm. Beyond the plan of the living. Many denominations develop this concept further. For a region of hell if you are wicked. To a place in heaven if you are good. Two arbitrary concepts. But the catch. Good for the institutions promoting them, was the salvation in him. The son was the king of kings.
I have no respect for rituals and arbitrary concepts. Of wars between my mom, and the must to appease my mom. Who has self declared her job. For rituals in important settings are important. They clarify when and where to join and not too. They may sanctify the difference between a religion, and place of employment.
Many people look up to you to man-up. For you are the asker and giver of questions. It the specific female who suggests, interrogates, laughs, and treats you seriously as not a joke. Or as a joke. As a potential life partner. There is that in a lot of my life. If humans are not being cuddly, the animals will take there place. If An ex partner is using her lover to attack. He feel like a major hero to attack. Making love on your property as you are too lazy to hunt them down and stop them. Their family honoring that work they so work hard and long for. An annoying shouting of joy, justice, common sense, weirdness, controlling tomfoolery, and god blessed this needs to end.
God bless the animals. Not condoned in our creepy, but helpful and protective, socialist modern world with its many empires, corporations, churches, and hamlets that all think the same. Who all have the same concept of the common enemy. For the common enemy is obvious to attack. He is somewhat a chosen sacrifice. And a chosen victim and villain rolled into one.
I did not create the concept of a common enemy. I am thankful for animals not having a common enemy. Sure when they becoming trellises, they enemy tribe or species may become the common enemy. It may be better than it was. People of a certain skin color did not have a choice at all whether they were allowed to be free. To go into certain places. People of a certain skin color were not allowed to be a mile within the white ruling class the conquered the majority of the world
I wrote a sonnet exclaiming death. Not being an athlete in High School. Not doing anything highcool. But as a writer I feed on boredom and misery. Boredom and misery is my key. There is nothing to hold back. I forfeited my reason to go forward. I failed the pretty blonde girl with the huge smile. Many times. Such as the times in High School. I failed last Sunday. To give her up to her lover. Pore fool me. I curse the world to death. The cult of community college is vast, lonely, and boring. The cult of Jesus. Which I have forfeited my self into. The cult of booze. Which may be happier. But ultimately will send me into the money pit if I’m not careful. The cult of online dating. Anyways. The cult I have ran away from. Now I have ran away, and trapped myself into a cult of booze, Cougar sex, mommy sex. For I am the cutest lover who really loves his mommy. I am the cutest lover who will not accomplish anything unless I turn 30. Sitting in my mom’s basement. Drinking maritimes, and Jacking off to the heaven know what. Playing video games. Wishing I was dead. Being bored out of my mind because of the video games. Maybe I will finally move to my dream state of Alaska. Finally. I can rest in the cold, and fall asleep in it. Finally. The cold frost of winter. It melts my soul to high heaven. The cold frost of avoidance. It strangles me to youtube. For the peaceful distraction from cultural attitudes. Can it be. Can it be. Can it be. But a young lazy fool. Piece of shit. Curiosity of curiosity. For I shall never have a girlfriend and never will. I never, never engage in the act. For I shall Get drink, or sleep first before that happens. As the president awaken a sleeping people. With nothing better to do then to escape into festivals. As I avoided festivals. Bored out of my mind. Do I have the cash for video games and festivals. No. But I do have the patience for church. Patience for Jesus. There is no going back in time. Jesus shall be my savior and and salvation. As Jesus was the self-appointed common enemy of our western culture. So I’m I to the places I visit. My pleasure and entertainment. But there is others in this great globe of humanity. For I wasn’t raised a Christian. I may be a Sean. I will fight and stay a Sean. To the detriment of my community, house, etc… But I will probably venture to that for a year. Being a weird man. Being a boy of my own self pity, spite, laziness, and cursatide. Maybe I could become acquainted with alien cult. Or try Jesus for six months. For I have avoided school because of Jesus. Then avoided Jesus. Then school again. The freak-outs. I am a freak-out.
