House Flies.

So lets start where all good complaints coming from me start. Cancer. Motherfucker took so much time from me. No proof anyone did anything so no case. No hair or beard. No friends that I crave. Stop smoking weed cause the chems in the chemo are effecting the breathing. Take away the only thing that takes the pain away. Leave me empty. Hateful.

Sad when I think about times in high school. Times with people I loved. Times with people I hated. But it was still structure. I could count on an asshole saying something and having a witty come back. Flash to the real world. The present. Where my comeback would be a scream. I would just yell at them. Attack them.

[Incoming Horde]

Lonely. Hormones on high. Wanting affection and not getting any. No drive to thrill myself though. I could watch porn all night and never get wood. Why? Cause I want emotion not release. Both would be nice. Neither seems possible at the moment. How can you get with girls that don't exist?

Wanna know what my choices for daily actives are? Write alone in my room on a short story/script that will never be anything big or call Adrian/BZ get high and sit. I hate those choices. I hate sitting like that. Where is my deep conversations? Where is the emotional connection that people are suppose to have? Its not there. Its just dead in the water bloated and floating until someone pulls it ashore and identifies it as me. A Twin Peaks situation comedy starting Blaine as himself.

What burns me up is people telling me to get over it. Like its nothing. Oh its curable. You're fine. Yeah, but for the last seven months my life has been on hold. Pushed aside by cancer and its not just that. Having cancer is like falling off a horse. I'm trying to get back up. But then that horse starts kicking the shit outta my head. Really stomping on it. Now that's called depression and anxiety. Social problems. Trouble in crowds. The highest dose of UPPERS you can be on and I still don't see a light at the end of the tunnel. I see a life I don't wanna live. I don't wanna rush into college and get a degree in something foolish like I had planned before all this mess. I see the world for what it is now. That paper will be in my back pocket and I'll be living under 95 with the rest of you fuckers. Not what I want. I want to be THOMPSON. I want to be ORWELL.

I want peace. I want to live my dream of just living. I've realized how precious life is now. I don't want to waste away in some suit and I don't want to work myself to death in some factory. I just wanna be 19 years old. I want adult friends that get me for who I am and don't mind if I don't drink at the party. I want a woman that enjoys being treated like a woman and not a object. Respected like a lady should be but they don't seem to want that. No one seems to want what I have to offer. Not girls. Not people. The only person that I feel gets me here in Florida is me. Split myself into two. Eddie Brock and Venom. Narrator and Durden. I am Jack's twisted design. I am Jack's disappointing life.

I am ALEX: KING OF THE WORMS. I am HAL JORDAN. I want more than what The Force has laid out for me. If everything happens for a reason then why am I here? Why am I alone and sad? Why can't it just end? I can't answer the question. Like trying to say TOY BOAT three times fast. Like trying to fix my hair in a restaurant bathroom mirror only to find it covered in graffiti. What happened to this place? Didn't they just build this Wendys? Why is it so run down? And I've forgotten my wallet. What a world. Raise a glass to THE KING OF KINGS and toast cause that train don't stop here anymore bud. It goes all the way to the end of the line. You're stuck. Check your lease buddy cause you're living in FUCK TOWN.

I pray that when you find this the robots haven't taken me but if they have then its up to you to get the book and go public. I've already said too much. I hear them at the door. The gears and clanking. They'll put me in a jacket for sure and this time I wont be coming back. I'll be sent up river to live with the other crazies in a forest. That's their plan. Put us all in a forest and burn that shit right to the ground. Its good land for apartments they'll say. They'll try to tell you I wasn't part of OPERATION FREEZE NIXON. Don't believe the lies. You and I are the truth. You and I are the proof. I won't let them take me and so now I encase myself in a cocoon. The only choice left. Wait until they go away. Let time pass. When man falls awaken. Wake you too. Then we can be together. Peace. Finally I'll find peace. I won't have to be just another sip from the BIG GULP.

For what its worth its been worth it. I can finally see why HOUSE FLIES only live about 24-48 hours. Its because they're fucking flies and no one gives a shit about them. What's the connection with me? Nothing. I just felt like letting you know so that the next time you see a fly and crush him. Swat him down. Make him pay for being a dirty little fly. You are a blessing. He dies quick. Not slow and painful. He has meaning in his life that you gave to him. So in the end he wins it big and you got sticky shit all over your palm.

Of course Cockroaches will outlive us all. They'll be running the nuclear wastelands after the monkeys have been laid to rest. With little cars and little hats. Little jobs and little lives. I hope one day a cockroach mutant about 19 years old that has Hodgkin's finds this in an archive and read it. I hope it helps him knowing I existed because it helps me thinking he will exist. Like distant cousins. Blood brothers. Fate coming undone and paradoxes galore. It makes me smile. I feel better now. Rested. MISSION COMPLETE.

[YOU HAVE ALERTED THE HORDE]

Eat up boys. It don't get any rarer or rawer than me.

-Blaine

maybe it wont be enough but its all i got

run in circles everyday and go chase your damn tail.

most important thing is focus. not many chances are going to come and time is running out. everything counts on this.

tears me up inside because i see someone who degrades herself and ego. i think about all the men who lust after you and it makes me feelpathetic because im also a man who lust after you. why do i have to desire a woman who lives her life enjoying sexual intercourse withother men? because you are a perfect image of lust. because there isnt any part of your body that doesn't arouse feelings of lust in me.you make me hate myself because i sexually desire a woman who believes what she is doing is a good thing. theres no other woman who is asperfect as you in physical beauty and desirability. i cant bring up any feelings of love for you. only lust. you said that beauty is in itsraw form. maybe it is. maybe thats your raw form. a life of lust and sex. maybe my raw form is my lust for you. but i dont see any beauty inthat. i only see ugliness in me because of those feelings. and i hate you for making me feel that way.there might not be any other woman in the world who i can feel lust and love. im attracted to whores like you because what you do is brave.there might not be any other woman in the world who i can feel lust and love. im attracted to whores like you because what you do is brave.what you do is appealing because you have no thoughts about what this could do to you afterwards.it is the most attractive thing in a woman for me. because your dangerous. your like a beautiful rose with thorns. your like a time bombabout to blow up in my face, yet i cant stop looking at your flashy lights.it feels so good thinking about your body, your lips, your eyes, yet it makes me want to destroy myself.theres no other woman that would make me feel this way as you. your so confident and powerful. i feel like a school girl trying to convinceherself not to swoon after the school badboy. hes dangerous like you. he could get me into a lot of trouble.my conclusion is this: i hate you. because i lust for you. there isn't going to be anyone who i can both sexually and emotionally desirebecause the only women i lust after are women like you. women who aren't ashamed of their sexual affairs. women who are exhibitionistsof their nude bodies. women who eagarly crave sex in the public.sex made women like you confident. and confidence got you alot of sex. im attracted to that. but i dont even want to think about you anymorethinking about you tears me up inside. because i wished that you were the girl that lived next door. and you were attracted to me. only me.not several other men.dont ever pop up in my head again. because it makes me feel so good, yet bad.last words: your perfect. your so deadly beautiful. so powerful. so amazing. but why couldn't you just be the sweet girl who lived next door? maybe what you do made me desire you. because what you do is like someone who amazes others with death-defying stunts, in a way.its not something i can just turn off like a switch, but i dont want to look at you anymore. you keep making me feel like a slave.its how i feel naturally, yet you make me feel like a shallow son of a bitch. theres never going to be another girl like you. because your entirely perfect. and what you do set you apart from the other girls. what you've shown to the world made you into a goddess of death. and who wouldn't desire the goddess of death to a normal girl who isn't as attributed with sex as you are?