What They Never Tell You

What it’s like is I was in this dream where you were this fucking angel floating up and out all the way up into the sky way up to the ceiling of the whole history of the world. And I go, look Maddie, that angel’s got glitter coming off her in giant plasticine waves of blue and white fluorescent light and Maddie goes, uh huh.

Maddie was naked. Lying on the floor making snow angels in the blanket her old man left the last time he came to hang out here. And what happens is Maddie’s arms go numb and she starts to cry. Crying out JOHNNIE, what the fuck did you do, did you dose me? MY ARMS ain’t working. What the fuck did you do? Only I didn’t do fuck. I was just there staring up at the crystalline angel of death of this reality and thinking to myself, why isn’t she naked so I could get a vision inside of here to finally see how the human female animal works. And I go to myself, no chick who had my heart or I was just fucking let me look up there with a flashlight and it was something I had always wanted. BRAN muffins. Do you remember how we used to think Bran muffins were like some kind of god’s gift when really they weren’t good unless heated and covered in melted butter? Some diet. But, there was just her floating up and above us---that angel chick. Maddie on the floor me on the side of the bed. The bourbon almost gone as and as right then it dawns on my brain that my heart had become this thing. A thing I covered up with mud. The dead mud like Rudolph used on his nose from Rudolph the Claymation one from childhood. Whenever he got around that one pretty reindeer chick his nose would glow out and burn off all the mud. BRIGHTLY GLOWNG. Like he couldn’t cover his true feelings. Remember when he covered that shit to make himself fit in with all the ordinary reindeer and they laughed at him and called him names like BLINKY, fucking BLINKY ON AND BLINKY OFF and it didn’t matter, cause the name stuck anyway even though after the clay on the nose made his voice sound like he had adenoids. Do you remember adenoids? I haven’t heard that shit in a million years.----BUT----then after the mud took away the sparkly shine of my heart, then I put TAR on it. I let the tar dry so it was like this sticky ball of tar heart thing.  And then I put a quick drying glue on it over that and heated it up with a flame thing like you use not when you solder, but when you start a big fire or smoke a hit of crack. Like that. That was what was going down when Maddie had a seizure and her eyes aren’t looking anywhere on purpose, just kind of everywhere at once like as in if she were a fucking crazy person or a retard, no offense to anyone who is. But the angel of death was like talking about this dead cat and how the dead cat was fun to gut but even in the morning or mourning of her twisted guilt she licked the knife. And all of a sudden I call 911 cause Maddie ain’t faking. This is it.  And while I waited for the ambulance, the glittery angel taunted me with all my fears since childhood. Like you aren’t good enough and don’t have the OP shorts, instead you have the fucking KMART shorts cause your mom doesn’t understand how you’ll get your ass beat if you don’t fit in. And the whole time you’re rocking and saying to this angel. Please stop being mean. Just be cool, man, you’re a fucking angel from god and stuff. But angels don’t listen. That’s what they never tell you.

the shallow things you can throw away later

you didn't expect her to be this way. what you expected was the biting screaming kind of thing. but instead it wasn't. she held your hand. the veil of toughness left completely and it startled you. you came too quick and then you tried to tell her how shitty that made you feel and how if she kissed you she'd fall in love with you, so you were only trying to protect her, but then when you go her on the couch you kissed her cause it's all you ever really wanted to do. you got so angry that you felt something and you sat there after making excuses for yourself holding her hand with your face buried in her chest. she pet your hair. "you'll get used to it, it really isn't a big deal." but you avoided her afterward, you acted mean when she said, why aren't you talking to me like you used to. you said, "if this happened and i wanted you as my girl i'd hate you forever." she laughed and said, but we aren't in love. i love you, but not that way.

you make excuses for how to not see her anymore. you tell her you are rehearsing or too busy when all you really do is comb for chicks on the internet. you keep meeting them and seeing them and deciding that nothing really matters cause you live at home. you miss your ex. you don't have a job and even if you did you think it's in bad taste to buy a coffee for a girl. it sends the wrong message.

you've read too many of those books about how to act like you don't like someone to get laid and you have become a hollywood cliche. she tells you she sees beyond all that and it makes you think she is deranged for liking you because you really are a douche. a total douche who runs around town telling people what kind of pussy a girl has or how someone's ass is too big or how the girl smelled weird or had nipples that bugged. in fact, your hatred of women runs so deep that it's all you can do to not tell them to their face how phony most of them are. but you have nothing to give them, that's the part that makes you hate them. you don't love yourself. that's the other part.

she isn't phony. and her vagina is perfect. like an alien you tell her. if an alien were a 15 year old hot girl.

if you give your heart, you will die. dead like forever.

so, you act like a dick and it empowers you. you tell yourself that she is out to capture a man, you never see an ounce of purity in anyone because you don't have an ounce of purity. or if you do, it's locked down deep where no one can crush you anymore.

she tells you how she's still in love with someone else and he hates her now and it doesn't matter because guys hate her all the time. you laugh at her suffering. you tell her she is annoying. you think when she says it makes her want to die that she is lying. you don't care about her at all. you actually hope she dies too. then you can feel better. cause no one on okcupid ever asks you anything tangible. once she's gone, so is your connection to the earth. you pray to god for that. but she doesn't die. instead she persists.

she tells you about the time the gang beat up her ex and how he had his jaw wired shut and he would go into the bathroom and slice open his chest saying, "look what you made me do." it creates distance because now you are among them. the men who loved her and the love turned to hate. you are ordinary--a person without your own thoughts on things, you are only concerned with what other people think. you are just exactly like them because you are too afraid to just be yourself.

what this does it make you die a little. every single time you see her, you hate her more and more. and she says, we never even fucked enough to get it going. and you go, yeah, but i don't want one of us to catch feelings and you mean her, but that's because in her case it's always "them" catching feelings and you want to kill her ego for it.  if you knew anything, you would know that her heart might like you, it might think you have a great big brain and it might like to fuck you like that one time you took her from behind. but the thing you will never get past is your hatred for women and your taste for killing anything good. if you can squish a girl and bully them enough, they will give up, you hope. then THAT will make you a man. you don't know yet you don't have to hurt others to be happy.

whenever she is around all you can do is think of getting her naked, so it doesn't really allow for friendship. you tell her, i have to fuck a bunch of other girls right now, cause fucking you is like going to the olympics. in the way where you don't fucking go if you don't train first. and you think the thoughts that everyone thinks to themselves and never says. if i were a more authentic person, if i were kinder, smarter, better in bed. but then you think again. there can't be any picket fences, you like younger girls and even if she is the best lover and has the best brain, you like the ones that won't call you or connect with you cause it is they who make you feel safe. safe and alone so you won't be too disappointing to them. you don't want something real. you want shallow things that you can throw away later.

you walk out into the street and look for something to kill. killing has been on your mind a lot and you don't want to tell her cause even though she is innocent in many ways---too trusting and not judgmental, she would not go for killing even a baby mouse. baby mouses don't feel anything, like they don't have names and stuff, you tell yourself. you are going down to the river, where you can kill something. you don't want her to know. you avoid her and you hope she dies somehow so you can kill things without her knowing. you are deathly afraid to be around her as if she will know things like a mind reader or a gypsy knows things. there was a time when you couldn't look her in the eyes and that time is back upon you. she can't understand how her vagina can make a person feel scared or less than or insecure, but you know she has never been a man. and doesn't understand man thoughts. the bad thing is you have absolutely no one to tell. you can't tell anyone because this one guy in your circle used to be her boyfriend and then another guy liked her and bailed to go fuck around as much as possible until his soul got better. you are a shitty person and no one will tell you that because they don't know what you are doing and how you feed on other people's pain.

all you really wanted was to take from someone. you didn't know that she was more predatorial than you, so you can tell yourself anything you want. you still know what is true. the reason you can't be around her is that she makes you hate yourself more than you already do.