Throughout my childhood I only wanted one thing. I used to cry myself to sleep praying for someone to love me. It was all my child’s brain knew to do. I was desperate for loving attention and did not know how to get it. I thought, had in fact been taught, that if I prayed hard enough god would listen and someone would come along and love me – actively love me. This is of course not true, but when you are a child, a very young child, you only know what you’re taught. And I was taught to pray, so I did.
When I was born my parents didn’t want me. That’s not an exaggeration – they really didn’t want me. My father dumped me off on his parents and sister, and my mother took off to god knows where. I have seen my mother once since I was about 10 years old. She was under house arrest and would later end up in prison (Be careful what you lookup – you may find the answer). When I was 10 my father took me in when he remarried, and then had three more children with his new bride. I quickly became the unwanted stepchild. His new wife tried to do right by me, but she was exceedingly young and simply didn’t have the skills needed. She finally lost interest in trying, realizing that she could please her new husband more by focusing on their three new children and ignoring me. Read more »
When I woke up this morning I did not have a hemorrhoid the size of Huston. I do now.
Today started as they all do. I got up, shook out the cobwebs, showered, squared away the dog, and headed to work. Within minutes of getting to work, having not even finished my first cup of coffee, I had to make my first trip to The John. Apparently the coffee loosened up everything a little ahead of schedule. But no worries. All done, I go about my day.
Around lunch time I was surprised that I had to make another trip to the gents’. This second trip was not unheard of, but not routine either. This time something was different though. I felt a pain, a stinging kind of pain like you feel when you get salt in an open wound, right on my asshole. I assumed that I had just wiped too hard and didn’t think much more about it.
But an hour later, sitting in my office chair, I was starting to feel very uncomfortable. Read more »
I fell in love with her years ago but I was always able to keep it contained.
I glow every time we interact. Every time we go out for food I feel what it must be like when a normal man goes out with a normal woman. Talking with her is always so wonderful – she’s nice and funny and smart and witty and everything I have always yearned for in a woman. And she’s beautiful. Read more »
All I wanted was a few minutes peace.
The time of the daily constitutional had arrived and I decided I wanted a little peace and quiet. Opting not to use the closest restroom I headed to the other side of the building to use one little-known and less trafficked. And I was in luck! The restroom was empty and I had it all to myself. Oh happy day.
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It’s Fathers’ Day and something I saw online inspired me to say to you the things I have always wanted to say. I don’t have time to write everything I want to say, but this is a big one: Jesus, why were you such an asshole? I mean really! What did I do? I was a child. I couldn’t have done anything that made you hate me as much as you do. Did someone else do something to you and you took it out on me? Did you hate my mother so much that when she took off (or you threw her out – I still don’t know the real story) you decided to take it out on me?
Why were you always such a dick to me?
I don’t get it. I didn’t ask to be your son, that was your doing. And if you didn’t want me, why have me in the first place? Read more »
I have lived in the same house for about five years, but only really got to know my next door neighbor last night, and not in a good way.
Everything last night was as normal and droll as it always is. I came home from work to the one ray of sunshine in my life – my dog. He was, as dogs always are, happy to see his master and I was happy to see him. We began our evening routine, him going outside to take care of some business and me setting everything down, emptying my pockets and beginning to relax from the commute.
Shortly thereafter the dog and I went for our usual walk. Nothing special. Boring. Mundane.
But as soon as we got back from the walk, I hear a string of profanities from outside my front door that would make a Kennedy proud. A rolling, rhythmic onslaught of voluminous cussing that, if recorded, would assuredly find its way to the Guinness or Smithsonian folks.
My neighbor, a single black mother in her early forties, is literally screaming a tirade of perfectly orchestrated profanities. The skill with which she shouted and screamed her cache of vulgarities, I now reflect, was astonishing.
Understand that I am in no way offended by swearing. I am quite the learned practitioner when it comes to the art of swearing. I have been known to let go a tirade or two in my time. But this was astounding. Read more »
“I can’t stand a naked light bulb, any more than I can a rude remark or a vulgar action.” Tennessee Williams
I was rude to someone today. I was rude to a very nice lady who was simply doing her job. And I didn’t even know I was being rude until the damage was done.
And I didn’t go back and apologize for it. Not because I didn’t want to, but for some other reason that I am as of yet unsure.
I had forgotten to take a piece of paperwork down to the main IT office yesterday, and upon discovering this made my way down the three flights of stairs and delivered it to the aforementioned nice lady. It was all pleasantries and smiles at this point.
As I had been there days prior with a previous version of the same paperwork, she questioned me, albeit very politely, about the paperwork and asked if it was necessary. This perturbed me. Read more »
Whenever I start feeling like I have made significant progress in my battle against anxiety, The Panic Rat stirs, sharpens his nails and starts scratching around.
It happened again last night, and it was a doozy!
The day was moving along as most Saturdays do. I had slept in, finally catching up on some missed sleep from the work week. When I arose at 10:30 a.m. the coffee was ready and my weekend morning ritual sitting in front of my computer awaited me.
Dog fed and coffee in hand I made my way down the stairs and proceeded to poke around the byways of the Internet. At some point I found mention of a boxing match airing around 5 p.m. I was excited as I greatly enjoy watching boxing. It’s a pure sport to me – two guys get in a ring and punch each other until one beats the other. Most times the person declared victorious is clearly the winner and the world is somehow a little fairer.
At 5 I watched the match, and what a match it was. Two of the best fighters in Europe clobbered each other for 12 rounds in one of the best matches I have witnessed in many years. The winner was declared, at which point everyone shook hands and went home.
It was at this point where everything went pear-shaped. Read more »
I have been very fortunate in that, for the most part, the recession has not impacted me nearly as badly as some. That potentially changed today.
I have a bad mortgage. One of those mortgages that no one should ever have. When I got it I didn’t know any better and bought the realtor’s story. I know it’s my fault because I signed the paper, and I have no problem paying my debts, but I bought a story, a story with the last chapter redacted.
And then my house lost one-third of its value. And it did it almost overnight. I don’t understand much about the economy, but I really don’t understand how my house can loose so much value so fast. The house didn’t change in any way, the plot of land is still the same size, the neighborhood is still the same, and this part of the country is still doing relatively well.
So I waited and waited, hoping my house would regain some of its value and then I could refinance. It hasn’t happened yet and I have one year until my mortgage adjusts.
So I took the initiative and contacted someone who could help. This person came highly recommended by someone I work with. He seems nice enough, and competent. I finally sent him all the paperwork he asked for and awaited his response. The goal is to modify my mortgage enough so that it will not adjust next year and I will not loose my house. Read more »
It occurred to me a short time ago, after I had just walked in from the nightly commute, that I don’t know what will happen when I die.
No, I don’t mean in the esoteric, religious, or metaphysical way, I mean in the, “who will come for me,” way.
No one in my family is especially close, and I am probably the least close of anyone. My father doesn’t like me, my mother is in prison, and none of my half siblings seem to want anything to do with me. When I go back home to see them they spend time with me, but not in any special way. If they are off of work and nothing else is going on, they will come say hello, but that’s about it. With the exception of my youngest sister who visited me once (and that was only because she was here with her then boyfriend, who I later found out she eloped with and didn’t tell me) no one from my family has ever come to visit me. Ever. Anywhere. Read more »