06.

Survivor stories. Man. You know, everyone is groaning and moaning about how bad they have it, the sex, the drugs, the complications, mommy was too oppressive and thought i was a zero anyway, daddy slapped me a couple of times and said i was a zero anyway - glares at Dogboy - kids at school laughed at me, the older kids from my football team thought i was a queer and decided to teach me a lesson - glares at Dogboy - all these fucking excuses, right, the abuse victims, the abuse stories and the fight stories and the needle stories, the hooker stories and the humiliation stories, and nobody loved me stories and the i'm-a-fighter stories, the depression stories and the cut-myself stories, the healing stories, the survivor stories - glares at Dogboy - everyone wants to fuck up and disappear into a hole or something, or so you claim - glares at Dogboy -but all i see is confession stories and redemption stories and do i look like a fucking priest to you, i'm not going to make you feel good about yourself, sweetheart, i'm tired of hearing how you got gang-banged by a few older dudes when you were the innocent little saint, momma's boy, how they cornered you on your way home from football training and dragged you to an old abandoned building where no-one heard your screams (of pleasure or of pain, slut, i wonder) and it was raining hard against the tin rooftop and brick walls, echoing, you drama queen - glares at Dogboy - i mean here you are talking about destruction and disappearance and all i see is a wannabe, someone who wants to live, who wants to survive and tries to find refugee and excuse in words, skillful words or ugly words or maybe it's just the same, it's a survivor story, trying to make people feel bad for how decrepit and what a degenerate you came to be, i bet it was not your fault, i bet there's some real touching sob story behind the person you are and the things you write about - glares at Dogboy - i bet some kind of fucked-up connection or association or shortcircuit or whatever took place when you were in a tender age, and that is why you have to keep justifying yourself and your needs and your idiosyncratic tastes constantly, and all i do is hear you wail about nihilism and destruction and then what you do, redeem yourself through what you call art, well, it's only half-arsed wishful thinking my love, you think you can recreate all the shit that's been done and being done into something beautiful, poetic, hopeful, romantic even, you think that half-witted rambling is some kind of art or absolution - gla-a-a-ares at Dogboy - you think words will save the world, you think words will save you, there's nothing but flesh, disintegrating flesh, the reality of the body, decomposing chemistry, pain, pain is the only reality, you can only disappear through pain, and don't you try to hang on to the bullshit about the beauty of life, i'm not saying kill yourself, i'm saying have the guts to make yourself disappear completely and be happy that failure and incompetence are inherent to you, be happy that you're not able to deceive your self with nice, poignant prose - sneers at Dogboy - like, really, anything but your fleshy wounds and your dying body is fake, you're a total fake, and people will see straight through your fakeness - glares at Dogboy - unless they're as retarded as you are, in which case the world is a fucked-up, retarted, ugly fucking hell and i'm glad i got off.

Glares at Dogboy.