There’s too many fucking people in the world. Everywhere I walk, an idiot here, a moron there.

Parked the car. Stereotypic poor black guy asking for change. “NO.” I proceed into Walgreens, hit up the cold medicine isle. *May I help you find something, sir?* “NO.”

Do I want your fucking help. Did I ask for it? Do you think I can’t learn to figure shit out on my own? For christs sake there’s labels and information on the boxes for a reason. You and your fucking bullshit job “contributing” to society with your fake hospitality. How bout I snap your fucking neck. May I help you with that, sir?

That’s how my tone sounds like when I NO.

Anyways, I’m in my flannel peejays because I been in bed all day dealing with a fever. To avoid further social interaction, I leap-step toward the cashier. *Hi, do you have a cash rewards card with us?* “NO.” *Would you like one?* “NO!” After I laid it down like that, the robotic bitch didnt say another word; not even happy holidays.

Then I grab my receipt and gravitate towards my car, taking a path that goes around the black guy on the bench.

I didn’t get this way because I have a measly fever. Though, this month has intensified me “being this way.”

I rather not go down memory lane, that’s what therapy’s for. If I wanted “help” and to get “better” I would pursue therapy. Truth is I WANT TO GET WORSE. The last thing I want is to be a better person using talk therapy to shape my thoughts into a positive neural framework. Who gives a flying fuck. We live and then we die.

8 billion fucking people in the world. So what if god’s not real? So what if he is and has a galactical cock with seasonal bells hanging from it? It’s really irrelevant when you put it into perspective- This planet is overpopulated by 8 billion. I care not if they’re all good or all bad and shitty or all delusional, new age, unique snowflake, fairy fucks. There’s just too many people and that pisses me off each time I journey out into society; it’s even a hassle just to get my mail from my own mailbox sometimes.

So the fuck what, you ask? Nothing the fuck what. I’m not here to brainstorm solutions. This is merely a TKO bag, courtesy of Oatisb1.

Anyways, yeah, “being this way” is my authentic truth. My whole life I was bullshitting myself, expected to adapt and mend to the myth of our dear society. It was only last month when I snapped back into hard, earthly reality.

Since then I broke up with the nicest, most perfect, pregnant girlfriend for no reason whatsoever, other than I bullshitted myself into thinking that if I just gave it more time maybe we’ll establish some semblance of a connection. Fact is I just didnt like her. Another fact is just this last weekend I got carried away with the “I just didnt like her” thought. I put her stuff outside Saturday and told her to kick rocks by the next morning. The next morning I let her wait under the canopy out back while she waited for her brothers to bring the uhaul. My last words before I shut and locked the sliding door were, “I pray to Satan every night you miscarry.” I didn’t mean it, of course, but I’m a product of what I’m pushed to. My anger is impulsive; other useless people attempt to escalate it to no avail. I don’t care if its sad and selfish, nor do I think it’s cool or empowering being this way. When a bitch gives you a redeemable-only-to-her coupon for a pair of running shoes on your birthday, you follow through on your promise, BITCH. I am what I am and I intend to embrace my truth.

The other ex-girlfriend with whom I have a child with went on match.com and fucked two dudes, trying to convince herself she’s moving beyond me. Sex driven by spite means you’re a _ _ u _.

However, last month she text me in the middle of the night “I miss you.” Then a week later “I broke up with the guy I was seeing.” This week I make myself vulnerable and, what do ya know, she isn’t receptive to my advances, at least not directly. She’s throwing the typical teeny bopper victimhood shenanigans at me, “how can I trust you again,” “you broke my heart.” “I will not do this to myself again.”

Personally, I refuse to go through this bullshit “half in half out prove it to me” process again. It’s tedious and stupid. You’re either with me or against me; and, if you’re neither and prefer to straddle the fence, then I prefer to jerk my dick to a photochopped playboy cover of a nude Santa Clause sticking number 2 pencils up an elf’s asshole.
Let’s recap:

1. There’s way too many fucking people in the world. Most should just die, including me.

2. I’m not going through that bullshit process, nor should anybody, in which bitch led you on, then denied you when you were purely receptive to her.

3. Merry fucking Christmas. I feel sorry for any of you miserable lowlifes if you read this entire thing.