Status: Married

Susie says...

I really need to stop looking at myspace while I'm working. Honestly, my near obessession with it has just become ridiculous. I somehow justify looking at in that it can be somewhat effective in drowning out whatever horrible things the low-life I happen to be speaking with on the phone is saying. If I am paying attention to myspace, I am no longer really paying attention to the phone call. But sometimes I see things on myspace I know I shouldn't. And I find out things I really didn't want to know.

The horrible thing about this myspace thing is that you can stalk the people you hate. Back in the day when you decided you no longer wanted to associate with some degenerate, you would simply eliminate them from your life. You would go on living your life, and better yet, said degenerate would go on living their's with you completely oblivious. You could really disconnect. Then, there was myspace. Myspace allows secretly vindictive people, like myself I suppose, to keep track of how retched the lives of their "enemies" have become. Usually, it's absolutely fabulous! But sometimes things don't go the way we planned. And sometimes, our enemies lives' get better instead of worse. So while we may go looking for vindication in the world wide web, we may only find the bitter truth that life is unfair.

I found out he is married now. Happily. And his new wife just thinks the world of him! It makes me wonder how much she really knows about him.

Oh dear. My myspace obsession has created an utter shit storm in her mind. She will not be pleased. Perhaps it is time to disable my account. Se can't very well move on from her past if I am always checking up on it.


Lacey says...

It's game time. I will rip that shit-eating grin right off his fat fucking face. What makes him think he gets to live happily ever after?

To the Viking.

Lacey says...

What am I suppose to do when you stare at me with those big eyes of your's. You are so kind. And it fucking kills me even more inside. Especially since it is not you I hate. It is him.

There is a wall between you two. And only I know why. All I have ever wanted is to tell you what happened. Everything. Let you decide for yourself how much you really want to be his friend. I could give a fuck less if you lose your best friend. But I'm not the one in charge of this one.

Do you have any idea what he has done to her? How much he has taken from her? That he is responsible for the mess she has become. In one night, he broke it all. She can't even have a meaningful friendship with you, who has done nothing to hurt her and never would. Because all she sees is him when she looks at you. Ha. It appears he has even taken things from you and you don't even know it. Some fucking friend you've got there.

I imagine one day I will tell you the story. Every horrible, graphic detail. I will break down that wall and you will see everything for what it really is. You will see what she has really become and you will know he is the one that made her that way. And you will see your best friend for the Devil he really is.

You probably won't be her friend after that. Most people who know the truth about that night never stick around. Fucking cowards who can't handle knowing that things that shitty really do happen to girls like her. No matter how much Jesus is suppose to love them. But then again, you probably won't be his friend either. And that is worth it to me. More than worth it. Because he deserves to lose everything. Sooner rather than later.

But she isn't ready for that. And may never be. Christ, she can be so pathetic sometimes. But I am sure that is why you like her. You nice boys love those girls you think you can save. You just don't know how far beyond your salvation she is.

A Circus

Amanda says...

You know the history of people with disabilities is truly fascinating. A story that offers a little bit of everything... tradgety, triumph, rage, confusion, deception, honesty. Sometimes even beauty. Sometimes even romance. But it's a history I find is not often discussed.

I own the movie Freaks by Todd Browning. Most people have not seen or even heard of it. It is a horror movie that was made in the 30s that featured genuine, side-show freaks with real physical deformities. I can't think of one person I have shown the movie to that wasn't extremely disturbed by it in one way or another. I have never met anyone (aside from my parents) who, like me, have an honest affection for it. The history of "freaks" is my history. They are my people. For that reason I have had an almost obsession with the study of how they have been portrayed over time. Greek mythology, the Holocaust, literature and film (any sort of art, really), etc.--you can find traces of their existance in all of it dating back to the beginning of time. You would think I would find a feeling of companionship in my persuit of knowledge about them. The truth is, it only makes me feel lonely.

"Normal" people do not really like to know this history. The old truth holds strong that people fear what they don't understand. And most people from the disabled community that I have met...well let's just say they don't like to think about the "injustices" of the past. And most of them certainly do not like to entertain the notion of exploitation. But I suppose that is understandable.

So here I am, with this extensive knowledge of something that interests me above almost all things. Here I am with a knowledge of my people. Where we have been. What we have gone through. But I have no one to really talk to about it that enjoys it. Or understands it.

I don't know if I feel discouraged. Or maybe a little defiant. Perhaps both.

Lacey says...

Just face the facts. People don't like freaks. And you are a freak who just happens to be pretty good at parading around like those "normal" people you claim to feel so shunned by. In a way, it's almost like one big fucking joke. I mean, you honestly can't believe you can belong to both worlds, can you?

The way I see it, you can either shine it on, perfect your act, and be a great success in the world of the normies. You will really have to shape up, though, to do that. You can't very well be normal if you don't look it. And at the moment, you don't. Or you can embrace your history. Embrace your flaws. Be the freak that you really are. And live a life of alienation and solitude. It just comes down to what you want more.

Personally, I think you are much better as a freak. I mean why even try to be a part of the normie circus when you probably can't pull it off? You will probably end up completely alone in the end for it. But at least you will have lived a life that no one else defined for you.