Dealin wit' it

Oh good Lord be with me, the Beast is stalkin' tonight. There's a huge gaping hole in my gut tonight. Dark. Empty. Reeking of the grave. The putrid essence of decay, of death, prolonged and dyin'. Like an empty grave, waitin' on a soul, it carves me to the marrow, that emptiness, that rotting stench of death warmed over. It cleaves my soul, this loneliness, this empty basket, knowing nothing this side of death can fill the blank void of my soul. It's almost a year since this journey began, and as I come full circle, I find that nothing, indeed, has changed, or been solved. There is a piece missing in me. My greatest fear is that I'm Harold Lauder, the Prince of Darkness, temporarily absolved but never forgiven, an example for the Walkin'Dude. I knew in my heart that tonight, the epiphany, the answer to all questions, but when all of the questions have been asked, I'm still alone in my nightmare of empty discontent.There is a hole in me, a flaw, that will never be riven, never be forgiven never be healed. I walk upon this earth, an empty caricature of the foolishness of man. I could never die by my own hand, not ever, ever, again, but in my mind, I wish I could die tonight, to release the endless pain, the sorrow, the emptiness, the loss of any friend that I could ever spill my guts to. You, my loyal readers, will never know whatit is like, not haveng a single person in your entire life that you can spill everything to without fear of reprisal, or shame, or judgment. But that is the fate I find myself bound to. An endless search for someone who will find me attractive for how I am, not who they want me to be. Do you have any clue at all what I have given up, knowing that the things that did the most for me were outside the boundaries, unattainable, and a dangerous pipe dream
of a simple, naive, retard? For that is what I am, when it all comes down to it. A retard. A genetic defect. A smudge upon the cleanliness of a New world. Verily have ye found the stain within ye, and purged it out.God forgiveth sin, but he does not forgive naivite, because, when it comes down to it, God doesn't give a flying shit about a rolling donut for those who don't meet his standards. The meek shall inherit the Earth, but that doesn't apply to those weaklings amoung us who don't deal his word like an ace high flush in a poker game. God could give a shit about those that don't fulfill his holier than thou proverbs.
That leaves the rest of us sucking hind tit on the holy goat. Always the bridesmaid, but never the bride. He is real good in his infinite wisdom. He'll suck the life out of you in your "holy matrimony" but at the same time he'll skew the fukkin deck when it comes to reaching fulfillment elsewhere.
Yeah, The Holy Beast is stalking tonight, selectng his kill, and ripping the life and hope out of those who have nowwhere else to turn.
Sweet dreams, to those of you who don't make the fekken cut. Your sacrifice, your sorrow, is but the foundation for the rest of the world's new hope.

Mike

To Whom It May Concern

I'm alive. Work is a bitch. The Beast is prowling. Once work gets cooled down, I'll be back to regular posting. Until then......... Dream Well.

Michael

Solitary Confinement

Still in solitary. But it seems one of the warden's little bitches got taken by the Three Amigos awhile back, so instead of the evening meal tonight, I got a laptop slid through the little slot in the door. No internet access, but it has a word processor, so I have a few seconds to send a little message, along with the instructions on how to send this post.
I have no way of knowing, at this point, whether Booger managed an email or not, but I'm seriously doubting it. So the summary of what happened.... we left our hero with an open cell door, and many minutes for kindly visitors to stop by and take a piece of rookie ass for free. Didn't happen. I sort of had a blackout in the middle of it, and don't remember much, but, call me what you will, I like to retain control of the one way traffic out my ass. Call me a damn traffic cop, but this is a one way street as far as you are concerned, fellas, and I feel somewhat strongly about that, even more so when I haven't had alcoholic drink one. I suppose a shot of X would grease the particular skids in question, or so I've heard, but that's probably the one non injectable drug that I didn't get the opportunity to try.
So I freaked. I'm a little guy, and don't fight, but damn it all, you better kill me, cause when I get out of the hospital I'm well and truly going to ruin you permanently.
I came to my senses with Booger standing over me, three pummeled bad asses surrounding me, and all kinds of guards looking through the damn bars in amazement, wondering how I'd managed to smuggle a couple of bats and a wood axe into my cell to create the damage on these poor souls.
I couldn't tell you. Neither could anyone else, cause Booger ain't a real good story teller, if you know what I mean.
So they tossed me in solitary. With the "attempt to maim" charge suddenly making so much more sense to most of the prison employees. But it made an impression on some folks, I guess. more corruption in the system. But I'm getting out soon. And there have been notes stuffed in the mashed potatoes of who to contact when I get out.
I'm pretty much employed for life, once I'm outta this hole.

If I could only remember what I did to those punks..........

Michael

In Dem Kuuler day 2

Yes, my loyel posse, I surfived the nite with my rektm, my ass intact. Unforchenitly, the aktuns I tuk, got me in soliterry fuk it. Mike wint syko and wupped da chit out of all dem stoopid biches. Now him in da kuuler, and I, him cell buddy, gotta try un type dis stoopid chit for em, cuz now I oh him one, and he caynt git out of dem kuuler to do dis stoopid chit. He say, Booger, yu gotta tellem my posse dat I made it. Goddam it hard enough tiiping in dis web address hoo hoo, now I gotta try and pass dat meesseg to him posse. Dis aynt workin so good, gotcha? I spell pretty gud, was smartest fello in Hokachie, Texes, but him tok too much hi falootin bull pukky for me. Ifn I dident oh him 1, i tellem get yur stoopid ass out of Kuuler and tiip this chit yerself, collej boy. But dem boys was gonna tayk turns on Booger after they rip newby Mike a new assho, and he dun sav my po Booger ass, so nows i goottah do dis chit for him. I's supposed to siine dis chit, 2, but him gonnah hav 2 deel wit it. Booger.