memories of a dirty whore

He asked like he deserves an explanation, like he ever had the balls to tell me wtf, like he never pulled the same bullshit on me three times in three years. Or was it four? I lost count and got very numb somewhere around three. Its hard to explain simple things to a crazy person. I think it's safe to define someone as crazy when you don't talk for 5 months and they're still calling you 'girlfriend'. Weird. So now he has finally caught up to me and he's all excited and full of hope and hella winded because he's been running his fucking ass off to get to here. Hey guess what-it's too late but welcome to the story of my life. It would be easier to stand there assured and face the other way if I didn't know that one thing I know that I wish I didn't know. Now because of that thing I know I'm looking back but trying not to look like I'm looking back, kinda sideways and out of the corner of my eye. I'm having a hard time believing there's sincerity in anything I hear. It's easier not to listen or pretend not to listen or listen and be all fucked up because those are just words and anybody can speak for fucksake, I mean we taught the dog to speak in less than a minute. It's pretty much works the same in the way in that if you say what they want to hear then you get a treat and if you don't say anything at all you just get el ojo until you do. I give a killer blow job. Speaking of dirty whores, I have this new thing/situation/scenario I think of when jilling and it's awesome and it gets me there in seconds but now I come across certain people during the course of my days and I find that I have a hard time looking them in the eye. Whoops! Who am I kidding, I don't even care. I have a feeling that maybe there is such a thing as karma and now I'm getting mine but in this pansy-pussyface way which is more annoying than getting it dickslapped across your face because at least that way you know you deserved it.

My mind is a David Carson creation.