my last night here in this cave.
my last night???
no.
i’m ready for all you sick fucks, and i’m ready to do it. white trash is in power here, and i will rule.
i’m not pretty, but i’ll steal your fuckin car, i’ll fuck your fucking mother, and i’ll tell you the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth

die you bastards.

i am all that you despise, i am that asshole that spits in your face when you look at me.
i have no shame.
i love it when someone i am friends with says
“i don’t ever want to see you gain”.
i always say “well, i can’t tell you what to do, so it seems you have made your choice.”

always throws them for a loop–they want Jesse to break down and say “no, i’m sorry for being a jerk, don’t stop talking to me……blah blah blah”.
what a fekkin joke.

imagine me caring about anyone’s feelings, much less my own.
i tell them all that life sucks, if they don’t like it then they can get a fucking helmet.
i am soooo steamed though.
oh well.
nowhere to turn
and nothing to lose…

i wanna tear the face off the people i meet
i wanna sing this song no more
how many more times will i have to say how fucked youre society is before you realize it?

your society has fucked me.
i didn’t grow up with a nice car in the driveway.
i didn’t grow up with flush carpeting.
i grew up with a hard edge, knowing that i would have to earn whatever i have.
i’ve earned it well.

i work nonstop. i enjoy it.
as for my sign……….as whitetrashrob said “if you’re offended by this, i’ve been offended by your whole society…so who’s really been slighted?”.

tell me i haven’t wasted my time.
and i am soooo fucking tired of seeing poeple say “ozzy rules”.
the ozzy you see ain’t ozzy, just a shell.
kind of like me…..i’m only a shell of what could have been…………….

anyone familiar with the incredible hulk?
well, jesse wants to smash right now….
for the past coupld of days now — everytime i try and talk to someone except for my buddy corey, i get the worst attitude on earth. i haven’t done anything to deserve it from anyone, hell–i even fixed someone’s home problem only to get a “thank you” in the form of a verbal assault.

makes me wanna destroy.
sometimes when i think i’m ready to start addressing society again with a new perspective, the people closest to me bring me back into my current state of mind. my current state of mind is a raging hate-freak, and i don’t like it much.
so i know the rest of the world won’t like it much either.

it doesn’t help either that i have no schedule at work—i come and i come and i come, still waiting for the boss to say “hey jesse, how about you start taking these days off regulary?”
i am so physically drained my mind is really feeling it.

simple requests from me to other people either go unnoticed, or they get me in a heap of trouble.
here’s a sample:
me:
“would mind leaving me alone for a while? i really need to relax and think by myself for a while”
response from my “friends”:
” what the fuck?!?! we always invite you over to hang out, or out to the bars and you never wanna go. some friend you are. you suck”

mulitply that by everyone you know, all at once and you will feel what i feel right now.
complete, and total rejection.
it’s almost like i don’t even exist right now–sort of like back to the future, where the picture is half there….it’s creepy.
don’t matter to me though–i’m a tough guy, i can handle it. i’ve been trained to be like this, and i’ve had the feelings beaten out of me at a young age.
don’t ever mistake my lack of showing emotion for me not having any…the feelings i have are more intense than most YOU will feel…i just have more control over them.

like i said—i have a neon fucking sign on my forehead–it says:
“walk all over me, i need some”

it’s been a long few weeks for me..a long sad lifetime too
some people say that anything goes…and everything has gone.
my past life grew old, and then it grew a new life and then it grew a new life and came back to me.

i’m still reeling from the cheap shot i got at the bar i got–i know your face. ever come near me again and i will wound you.
this is on top of me finding out that my “friends” were trying to scam on a girl that i have been seeing.
what kind of “friend” disrespects you like that? a scumbag is who.
it took all the strength i could muster, and all the willpower i could to reach out to an old friend and ask advice.
in the middle, i didn’t go and smash their heads in with my baseball bat ( i even bought a new one to mark the occasion).
i’m still waiting for everything in me to cool down.
it’s not the fact that she got hit on—she’s hot, and i expect it.
it’s the fact that my supposed friends would have the balls to disrespect me—knowing that my brain usually doesn’t function this properly.
i also wrote 4 computer programs for college kids….if there are any geeks out there—ML is a bitch and a half to hack.
played a bunch of pool, drank a bunch of my best friend…..
drained myself for the rest of the summer with all of this malarkey.
i talked to a girl i know tonight, and we both agreed that i have way too much responsibility.
as well as a heart that is two sizes too large for me….
i want to help all the people i know even though i know it is no good for me.
i can’t let anyone down, it’s not in me to ever do that.
which is why i work so damn hard at everything i do–because i have not only me to look at with failure.
i have 10 other people looking at me with disgust.
i can’t deal with that.
i’ve built this hulk-sized shell around me that i can’t leak my feelings but i still can’t stand anyone being disappointed with what i do. i can’t deal with it.

it happened a few times, and i exploded and showed them wrong exponentially.
a god cursed me with the will that never dies. kirk windstein was right when he said
“kill me, because i have a will that never dies”.

all i think of now are things that will relax me and things that will make people around me suffer.
don’t ever call me and not say anything—ever hear a marshall stack scream? that’s what they have been getting lately.

i’m so far out of my head again—i can’t even concentrate on a single ion anymore.
breathing is hard for me to realize. women are harder.
do you women have any idea how hard i work to try and make you comfortable in life?
never asking nothing more than recognition, or a thank you; no one ever realizes.

sometimes i curse the day that i realized i was blue-collar. and other times i curse the day that i realize i was a geek.
in the end i guess we will all work out together—-though it will be through a miracle on my part.
a miracle on the part of the working class. american skin till i die…

it seems like the only satisfaction i get now is listening to keith caputo…he’s the only person i have ever known who can bring out the feeling in me.
my shell is cracked when i listen to him.
my shell is getting stronger though–i have more to hide daily, and more to sneer at you with.
more to look at you with disgust and hatred….
this world is hard and i have prepared myself with the hardest medium possible so i can succeed.
i will.you will struggle by like a worm in a rainstorm.
i also discovered the real meaning behind body language—-there is none.
it’s all a big joke on the men of the world. a smile means nothing. the clothes females wear mean nothing, the way they shake their bodies in front of you mean nothing.
it’s all a ruse…or else it’s just a ruse on me, till the loser in the abercrombie and bitch t walks over with his sideways upside down golf visor. pulling up his pants as he walks and saying shit like “yo b, that is a tight ass you”.
why can’t someone come to my house and kill me while i sleep?
i’ve lived long enough, and especially now that girls pay more attention to posers than the real thing.
i’ve spent my whole life working—-and for what?
a pat on the back? a handshake? a free beer? nope.
one job i was fired from for being “too efficient”. imagine that. getting a job at a good place and being told you work too well, and too fast so the boss has to let you go.
i made them all look bad…and now they look even worse since their company is going down the shitter.

i’d like a life where sometimes i could hold someone, and have them not know who i am.
to have them not even see me…just so i can feel someone clutch to me and not expect something.
to have someone hold me think “this is nice”.

i don’t get that—i get myself holding myself at the end of the night.
i’ve tried it all, i even tried being a poser for a while–big joke that was…apparently if you know the old shool you’re not “hip”.
i don’t want to be hip. i don’t want to listen tot he grateful dead, phish, etc.
i don’t want people to be “in touch” with my feelings. i don’t people to be concerned about me.
all i want is a fare share for what i worked so hard for.

and as keith said::
“i don’t know why i keep searching for something that i haven’t found, as these weeds keep growing till they reach the ground. as time grows older, i’ve grown colder…”
time for me to gather my 3 hour rest before another exhaustion takes place…..
and i still think of you ES

i am so pumped up right now i could crap my pants.
i saw one of the MEN that helped to shape my life, and as always, we were up to our old shenanigans.
fekkin awesome.

i’ve never felt more alive, even knowing the loss i have accrued, this was the one thing that made it all worth it.
mike–you are a real man….never let me down brother, and i will never let you down either.

on another note—i got closer to something i have been wanting for a long time now.
i don’t want to run too quickly, so i a being “respectful” and “taking it slow”.
i hope it’s worth it.
speaking of running–i was reading the local college invitational track meet times—-a paltry 50.43 won the 400 meters.
tomorrow i am going to the coach of the nearby college and telling him to look at my high school scores, and tell him how he could have been part of a winning team for once (i ran high 40’s in hi sckool).
shoulda been recruited, but here i am–laughing at all these slow losers that think they are all that for placing third in a meet.
suckers—where i am from, 3rd is the worst loser–not good enuf to win, and not bad enuff to lose.
just mediocre.

many things plaguing my mind right now…mainly this object of my desire.
and a desire to care about spelling and grammar.
and also a desire to organize my thoughts–so many things right now i cannot describe……think i will rape you all with coherence, judgement, and a rabbit punch to your senses real soon….

“no i never want to fucking see you again”
surrounded by death and tattoos makes a man hard. make a man cold
makes a man like me break down and cry.
my father is dead.

am i dead too?
never had the chance to meet him, much less meet him.
i even missed his wake.
carry me fellas–i’m reeling right now.

so much time is spent now working on bullshit.
carrying around this bullshit.
thinking about this bullshit.
listening to everyone else’s bullshit.

so much bullshit that my blood and me didn’t have the time to get in touch.
he had a family besides me, and i’ll never know.
he had a whole separate life besides me, and i’ll never know.

i’ll never know my father except for the views of my mother–and i don’t want those.
the only father i have now is going to die soon as well…i’d give him life if i could.
i have him on my elbow now, as a reminder of how awesome he really is.

i am the thing that walks through the streets unafraid of Death.
i the thing that enjoys your pain, while inflicting more and more upon myself just so that i can stay ahead.
i walk the streets alone, looking at the weak bags of flesh that pollute my landscape, hoping for that one outside chance of an errant atom bomb exploding on your face killing everything for a 5 mile radius.

that would be something else.
instead, i am stuck here to watch you fucking ass disintegrate my world into a horde of weak masses crying over me eating red meat and drinking whisky and speaking my true mind.
so what if i can’t be politically correct.
if some “ethnic minority” was stabbing you to death, what would you say?
you know what you would say–anything to get their ass offa your stabbed body.
hell, i’d be a roman catholic as long as my ass would stop gettin stabbed.

maybe what we all need is a hard kick in the ass, and a mouthful of blood to gain a little perspective.
did you know that right now, almost half of the world is thinking about fighting someone?
what a joke.
everything we do is a fight these days…i fight daily for the air i breathe, since i know the first chance they get–they will take it from me, just like everything else.
these days, i gotta hold onto everything i have extra tight.
and then i burn it, because possession is a load of weak shit that is only useful for manipulation of the masses.
enjoy your existence now while you can, you fuckers.
i’m coming back hard….at 1,000 miles per hour on foot.
it’s time to burn my life

man oh man.
no one would believe the night i had tonight with my family.
yes, despite what other might say about their families, i love mine with a blind passion.
i fail to see what assholes they really are, i refuse to see their weaknesses, and i refuse to sit idly by when they need anything at all.
yup, i luv em alright.
back to the story now…

it was a party unlike any other, older people were mixing it up on the dance floor, cousins and me were mixing it up at the open bar…
and then i saw it.
a picture album, complete with me (and yes, it even said “future self-inflicted hard road traveller” for a caption) as a 3 week old baby.
but, what really grabbed my attention, besides my oversized package (it seems even then i was meant to be a stud), was the weird looking man beside me in the photo.
it turns that this man was my “father”.
i come from a broken home, if you will. i won’t ever call it broken, because it never knew it to be fine. this man though, he apparently knocked up and married my saint of a mother. when shit went bad (pop was drinking a bottle of vodka a day, at the same time he was owning graduate school for english) we left and came back to New York with the help of some hard-hitting family members. i heard from my “father” when i was 7 on christmas. never again did i hear from him.
but i noticed something new about this all—-i’ve never actually seen him, either in picture form or in person that i have the ability to remember.

my whole life has been spent protecting me from this “man”, and here i am now….190 pounds of hard flesh with an equally hard head.
what struck me as odd though was his size. almost the exact copy of me, minus a few pounds.
i spent all fucking day looking at this picture, and trying to find more of him and me.
the pop i have now is/will always is my real father. but i still want to see my “father” and poke him a bunch, asking why he ditched me.
i’m his first born, and will always be the coolest—

luv ya pop.
–Jesse
(more…)

fucking simple minded motherfuckers…

it all starts when i go to my pub to play pool and drink my beloved old grandad.
it all goes downhill from there.
why do you go to the pub?
to get drunk.
explain this to all the fratboys and the dumb bitches that go there to find a husband/hookup/etc.
they ruin the experience for me.
i’d be perfectly content if no jerkass went to my pub.

why in fuck’s name would you get upset for me not saying “hi!!” to you?
i’m drinking….it’s a bar, that’s what it is there for. not saying “hi!!”–that is for the phone, or email, or some other mediocre form of communication.
and on top of that—the dumbasses expect me to congratulate them on their spring break in panama city.
good job–you went to shithole capital of the world and drank (no one i have talked to about this scored either).
damn, i wish i was there for that!!
idiots; i bet they still ask mommy permission to go out and play wiffleball (which does rule, just so ya know).
i was in florida a few weeks ago for bike week—and it was great…..the reason being that the only people down there besides some surly bikers were canadian spring breakers. that’s a story for another time though.

so there i was shooting stick like always, enjoying my whiskey, and some fat bitch puts her flabby ass on the table…..no big deal, i just slap it with the butt of my stick. she moved.

then some dumb person decides it would be a “funny trick” to move the ball i am shooting at in midshot.
don’t these people realize that others have been killed for much less?
don’t they realize that they live in a world that i don’t recognize as existent?
i wish a black plague on them all.
and then a firebomb on the the crap (also called “gap” to all you hipsters).

so i didn’t say hi. i stared at you when walked in, i stared at you when you left–you don’t satisfy me until you leave my perimeter.
all i want is a good friend, a bottle of grandad, and a pool table. that is my satisfaction.
of course people will say “how can that make you happy?”
to that response, i answer this—-
nothing makes me happy, i only exist on one plane, and that plane is my personal one.
i do what i do, and that’s it. there is nothing else. i will never show you what i feel, and i will never show you any respect-because from you all i receive are lies.
i’ve been to the place where all the tough guys go–and i’m enjoying my satisfaction from it. without you interfering with it.

satisfaction is what i want, and is what i shall receive. time to warm up my punching knuckles………with the kung-fu action grip.

all everyone does nowadays is whine.
and all i do, all the time i have is spent saying “shut the fuck up”
life is tough enuff without these puffs crying about it.
i’ve got my helmet—do you have yours?
talked to ES tonight, and a lot of insight was had….

and what i realized was that everyone around me was a weak ass punk motherfucker.
the only reason half of these jerks were put on this planet were to piss me off.

they can’t drive.
they can’t park.
they can’t speak in front of a crowd.
they can’t write something intelligible (irony?).
they can’t enjoy themselves….
i burn with anger now.

i’m sick of people whining about “there’s no jobs anywhere for me…i’m so hopeless–feel pity for me” while at the same time they drive mommy and daddy’s car, getting allowance from them.

i wish.
it sucks having to work for a living, doesnt’ it.
fucking whining ass pussy long island faeries who know nothing except daddy’s money and the cock down the hall.
shut up with all the whining…you have no idea how good you have it.

i’ve got scars in places where you don’t have places.
i’ve got pain in my mind where you haven’t had thought.

i’ve got emotions that you are years away, and 3 kids away from having.
i’m so alone now. i’ve shed my ball & chain when i left my comfy parent’s house.

why can’t everyone else do the same? why am i the only one?
every thought i have is stolen.
every love i have is self made.
every woman i have feelings for i taken from me.
everything i know is pain and sweat.
it’s even harder because i know that i can’t give up—i promised.
was this part of the promise i made? i hope not.
i can’t take too much more of these crybaby puffs.

i can’t sit here and vent any more without being too upset about it.
i’ll leave you with this line though::

“you don’t ‘catch up’ on anything…you do what you do, and that’s it. if you read, then read. if you watch teevee, then watche teevee….but you can’t ‘catch up’”.

i was re-reading some old literary criticism books of mine,

and it re-occurred to me how much i enjoy jackendoff……

three simple words that i’ve tried to live by for a long time….
and by these three i will die. when i say die, they will most likely be the death of me.
when i was a young child, my grandmother had me promise her something.
it didn’t seem all that hard to achieve.
nothing seems all that hard when you are only 5 years old, full of hope and dreams…
nothing is able to stop you from thinking that you will be the best person ever.

then it all goes to shit.
people die, bills mount…
expectations drop, girlfriends get pregnant…
summer jobs become careers, friends go to jail hooked up H…

and me…i’ve been killing myself slowly trying in vain to fulfill a promise
i made 18 years ago.
i suppose i should be happy that i even remember after all these years.
but i’m not.
to me, it’s more of a failure because i know i will probably fail in this promise;
it kills me to know that i can’t, even though i’ve worked so hard.

now, i just want to say “fuck it” and move on, but i’ll never be able to now.
i remembered the promise i made, and i’ll always remember the person whom i made it to.
love ya, and i’ll get there someday…..
because i made the promise, and i fully intend to keep it.