You crazy bitch. I, indeed, was a crazy bitch.
If you were to translate the Spanish word para into English, and the Idiot-capitalism word loko into as loca Spanish, you would find that the beverage was literally labelled "For crazy women".
This seemed to be quite true, as the beverage contained twenty-four ounces-
trust me, I did the math here,
-of the cheapest alcohol available. Arithmetic aside, you essentially paid for three dollars for two and eighty-eight hundredths of the absolutely most disgusting alcohol one could ever consume.
I made a mistake last night in Bible Study, sharing that I'd learned how to say, "Yo quieres la ellsas lavando mi pene con sus bocas."
Those in the light of Christ, don't look. Unless you are a King, then, feel free and find humor, however, do not deem yourself a King, unless other's have done you so.
Not funny in the light of Christ. Not funny. There had been an entire lexicon of terms I'd learned, however, I found them not fit for the study.
Hell, before I even begin to recall that, let me get back to the notes I'd taken during the study.
Amelia was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. I knew that somehow, by the grace of God through the science of Genetics, she had been created. Unfortunately, by not following His word, she had been forsaken, a bastard child, and doomed to a life of early misery, but as DeAntre and I once said;
"For something to be deep, it must be first thrust deep into the ground with iron shovels and torn apart from the core."
As much as I didn't like that for my daughter, I knew it was the way this flawed world ruled by Satan worked. Even my drunken hands, eyes, mind, ears, and tongue knew these facts. The problem was there was no way around they but salvation. Salvation through Christ, salvation through Islam, be it whatever may. If you found salvation, I could find you reason for it.
However, that might've not've been accurate. I was the Devil's Advocate.
My daughter was beautiful, the world was beautiful, all full of beauty and wonderful chaos. I'd watched animals torn to shreds in the cycle of life. I'd watched my daughter tackle innocent kittens and Dwayne Johnson them into submission. It was wonderful. It was pure. It was perfect.
Yet I still felt as if I was being led astray.
From God? Sure. From Satan? Sure. From sanity? Sure. Honestly, at the moment I was so drunk I couldn't even keep a solid train of thought.
I'd needed a cigarette, but God knew that if I took a break for a cigarette I'd be late to work;
Unless I called work, asking if could be an hour late, so I could finish my writing;
Then, being able to smoke a cigarette and take a short walk feel somewhat rejuvenated-
It was the perfect plan! However, there was one problem.
My phone was charging.
Fuck it all, I did not want to go. I was at double-Zero. Double-Zero. Time would tick by ridiculously slow and I would be subject to the bitter tick-tock of the clock that would surely drive me insane. Better yet? There would be nothing to put me to sleep at night. I was so fucked it wasn't even funny.
Let go and let God! Okay, God. Come on. Throw me some coca and some mota and I'd be set for the day. The last thing I wanted to do was go spend six hours making... sandwiches. I was screaming on the inside. I probably smelled. I probably looked like I was full of hate. My voice probably slurred from the Xanax I'd finished and the Fourloko I'd finished before even getting to the library to write down this shit.
And not a... thing had been about Jesus! or Christ! or God! It had all been about whatever the hell I couldn't remember because it was all basura! I hated it. I hated it so much, the lonely energy drink infront of me provided my only solace.
At least it was an easy sixty dollars in your pocket. Yeah, fucking right. After child support and taxes it was more like thirty fucking dollars. Then, maybe, if you considered eating, you'd be even more fucked in the ass, food was expensive. Way too expensive to live off of minimum wage.
Let me illustrate for you. Last paycheck? Seven hundred dollars. Social security deductions? AKA for the old fuckers who didn't do a fucking thing anymore because they were useless? (forgive me, Lord) including other withholding? One-hundred-twenty dollars. Somehow, total pay was four-hundred-fifty.
Rent, if you were lucky, was two-fifty. Food, if you were hooked on stimulants and cigarettes, was maybe fifty bucks. That left fifty bucks every two weeks for gas.
Capitalism? More like Satanism, if you ask me.
This seemed to be quite true, as the beverage contained twenty-four ounces-
trust me, I did the math here,
-of the cheapest alcohol available. Arithmetic aside, you essentially paid for three dollars for two and eighty-eight hundredths of the absolutely most disgusting alcohol one could ever consume.
I made a mistake last night in Bible Study, sharing that I'd learned how to say, "Yo quieres la ellsas lavando mi pene con sus bocas."
Those in the light of Christ, don't look. Unless you are a King, then, feel free and find humor, however, do not deem yourself a King, unless other's have done you so.
Not funny in the light of Christ. Not funny. There had been an entire lexicon of terms I'd learned, however, I found them not fit for the study.
Hell, before I even begin to recall that, let me get back to the notes I'd taken during the study.
Amelia was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. I knew that somehow, by the grace of God through the science of Genetics, she had been created. Unfortunately, by not following His word, she had been forsaken, a bastard child, and doomed to a life of early misery, but as DeAntre and I once said;
"For something to be deep, it must be first thrust deep into the ground with iron shovels and torn apart from the core."
As much as I didn't like that for my daughter, I knew it was the way this flawed world ruled by Satan worked. Even my drunken hands, eyes, mind, ears, and tongue knew these facts. The problem was there was no way around they but salvation. Salvation through Christ, salvation through Islam, be it whatever may. If you found salvation, I could find you reason for it.
However, that might've not've been accurate. I was the Devil's Advocate.
My daughter was beautiful, the world was beautiful, all full of beauty and wonderful chaos. I'd watched animals torn to shreds in the cycle of life. I'd watched my daughter tackle innocent kittens and Dwayne Johnson them into submission. It was wonderful. It was pure. It was perfect.
Yet I still felt as if I was being led astray.
From God? Sure. From Satan? Sure. From sanity? Sure. Honestly, at the moment I was so drunk I couldn't even keep a solid train of thought.
I'd needed a cigarette, but God knew that if I took a break for a cigarette I'd be late to work;
Unless I called work, asking if could be an hour late, so I could finish my writing;
Then, being able to smoke a cigarette and take a short walk feel somewhat rejuvenated-
It was the perfect plan! However, there was one problem.
My phone was charging.
Fuck it all, I did not want to go. I was at double-Zero. Double-Zero. Time would tick by ridiculously slow and I would be subject to the bitter tick-tock of the clock that would surely drive me insane. Better yet? There would be nothing to put me to sleep at night. I was so fucked it wasn't even funny.
Let go and let God! Okay, God. Come on. Throw me some coca and some mota and I'd be set for the day. The last thing I wanted to do was go spend six hours making... sandwiches. I was screaming on the inside. I probably smelled. I probably looked like I was full of hate. My voice probably slurred from the Xanax I'd finished and the Fourloko I'd finished before even getting to the library to write down this shit.
And not a... thing had been about Jesus! or Christ! or God! It had all been about whatever the hell I couldn't remember because it was all basura! I hated it. I hated it so much, the lonely energy drink infront of me provided my only solace.
At least it was an easy sixty dollars in your pocket. Yeah, fucking right. After child support and taxes it was more like thirty fucking dollars. Then, maybe, if you considered eating, you'd be even more fucked in the ass, food was expensive. Way too expensive to live off of minimum wage.
Let me illustrate for you. Last paycheck? Seven hundred dollars. Social security deductions? AKA for the old fuckers who didn't do a fucking thing anymore because they were useless? (forgive me, Lord) including other withholding? One-hundred-twenty dollars. Somehow, total pay was four-hundred-fifty.
Rent, if you were lucky, was two-fifty. Food, if you were hooked on stimulants and cigarettes, was maybe fifty bucks. That left fifty bucks every two weeks for gas.
Capitalism? More like Satanism, if you ask me.
~ after ~ thoughts ~ dedicated ~ but unrelated entirely to ~ miss ~ squiggles ~
- Losing Kelsey,
- Had been entirely my fault.
- I'd fucked her within hours of fucking Kristen,
- Used her for her money, her car, and her kindness,
- And gotten her to dump her boyfriend who had been diagnosed with cancer for me,
- Even when I had no real intention with her.
- I blame my father for this, showing love and affection where there was none,
- But I was my own person, and this was my own cross to carry,
- I could beg and beg for Kelsey's forgiveness all that I wanted,
- but I would never forgive myself.
- Kelsey, I am sorry.
- The only thing I am not sorry for is the cups. The giggling I made you laugh uncontrollably with those plastic cups we'd confiscated from Teavana.
- Losing Emma,
- had entirely been my fault, although Sam begged to tell otherwise, which I neglected to hear,
- had been an object of lust and envy,
- I'd used her for sodomy
- I'd sodomized the fuck out of her
- I'd used my hands, too,
- which my Biblical definition had been as unclean as Satan himself, okay that was a bit blasphemous, but I'd looked like I'd been through an axe murder
- The curses had taken hold of me, and I will leave you to look after those if you so insist- which I suggest you not.
- Losing Amanda,
- hadn't been entirely my fault, because she had another lover on the side,
- no matter how frivolous,
- and her mom forcing her to do so because of my GOOD NATURE (yes, once, I was a good person)
- and the unmentionable things I will not mention will remain unmentioned for, I do respect her, Christian, God, Christ, or not.
- Losing Bailey,
- Had simply been because I'd fallen asleep for a late-night hook up,
- Losing Ella,
- As much as I'd enjoyed the sodomy, had been lost because I'd passed out, high and drunk and missed her phone call. But Hey, Ella, the anal sex was the shit.
This is where I'll stop, because it becomes to sound like bragging, which I do not wish to do, as no good father would do, and as no good Christian would do.
Oh, by the way, I failed in my sins last night. I got drunk and jerked off, almost passing out in Bible Study.
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Oh, by the way, I failed in my sins last night. I got drunk and jerked off, almost passing out in Bible Study.
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