Rapture

Payday. Boom Boom. Ker-ching. But I am not buying soul-destroying chemicals! Not unless my usual escort invites herself around to show off her new breast implants! Then I might succumb! I might soon be snorting rip-off novocaine from her deep plunge veiny cleavage! Don’t say you wouldn’t do the same!

Talking about sexy women. There’s one or two in apology class. I get close to them, let my feelings known, and then they poop on me with a hurtful comment. For some reason, I attract hurtful comments. They all cannot friggin’ help themselves. I think it’s because they envy my upbeat state of mind, megalomaniac mood and cheery personality. I suspect they are reading my thoughts, somehow. I may have mentioned that before. They seem to know so much about me. Strangers, associates, family members, the lot. They all give the game away. All that results from it is me walking away. I’ll save my attention for those who deserve it. If such a select few worthwhile people exist, that is.

James Herbert said that there is ‘Nobody True’.

“Each heart knows its own bitterness, and no one else can share its joy.”

I shared about rapture today. I think that’s why I was on the receiving end of a backlash. I’m in a room with druggies and drunks; I shouldn’t be bragging about happiness, I suppose. My girl Grace thought rapture was an evil word. I had to explain biblical trumpet sound. In Jesus name naturally. Whose other name would I discuss biblical trumpet sound in?

I’ve been thinking about smiling porn stars smoking weed in the morning before performing on a set. I’ve been thinking about standing up to all my adversaries in the name of God. I’ve been thinking about how boring life can be at times, if you’re not thinking about anything.

This isn’t enough for me, in a way. I need to write florid prose about a character in a plot. And a character who knows a character in a subplot. My next tale will be entitled The Museless, I’ve already made bitty headway into it. The title tells its own story. It sounds like its about losing everything that ever inspired you, and the desperate places you travel to from there. Fortunately I ended up somewhere safe and secure, or I wouldn’t be able to deal with the concept.

I’m fundamentally pleased with where I am at the moment. I don’t mean to come across as an emotional snob, because I know that our kids are killing themselves. I should be able to empathise, as I tried it myself on multiple occasions. I have enormous compassion for suicides and self-harming.

_______________________________________

You are reading the words of

CHOSEN, 

SUPER EMPATH 

and TARGETED INDIVIDUAL.

________________________

That’s me. Among other things.

Hope you have a fancy name too! Like Johnie Kick Doors Down! Or The Chip Shop Torturer! Hell, even something like Walter Mellon would suffice.

It doesn’t harm you does it? As long as you identified yourself. You wouldn’t want someone like a shrink labelling you, would you? Otherwise I'd be nothing more than a mental patient who can't prevent himself from lighting uncontrolled indoor fires. It's a pity I don't set my neighbours house on fire. A blessing for them, but a pity for me.

Back soon. Enjoy what remains of your day...