I really can’t stand women who feel like
they have to bury themselves under
six-feet of makeup and drawn on eyebrows.
To be honest, if I did prefer women to men,
I’d date a woman who didn’t have a face
that reminded me of a painted mannequin.
I mean, the only thing I’d be able to think
when we’re together is, “What the hell
is actually waiting to come up from the
depths of the long-lash lagoon or the foundation
forest?” because I’m pretty sure it’s not
some sort of welcoming party.
And what about the whole traveling to
the bathrooms in groups thing?
Sometimes I have to wonder if there’s
some sort of secret society of warrior
women waiting to come charging out
of the lavatory and straight at me just
because I was born the wrong gender
in their eyes and that I have no idea
what they feel or who they are.
Women just terrify me at times.

The bible said that man was made from
the very earth we walk upon,
but I think God threw a few other things in
just to **** up the equation.
I’m pretty sure he threw a dash of inherent
******* into the mix just to make sure
that men weren’t too attainable or attractive,
after that came a splash of aggression.
Well… maybe he threw the whole bottle in,
either way, these weird tangled up monsters
he created are pretty **** annoying.
They treat each other as if they were lower
than the dirt from which they came,
even though they have no right or reason.
And for every masculine, macho, man out there,
“Go **** yourself.”
Because I’m tired of all of these “Holier than thou,” attitudes,
just because you have a bit more muscle,
or that you’re a bit faster than I am,
or because you may be able to lift more weight than I can.

Sitting alone in
my room away from the world;
vicarious life.

Racing; beating; still–
My heart does these strange things when
I’m talking with you.

This impending fight
lingers at the forefront of
my mind constantly.

There are these cynical thoughts dancing around in my head
            waiting for my guard to fall…
            waiting for my guard to disappear…
                        And for some reason, I can’t rid myself of them.

                                                                                                            I wish they would vanish.

But I guess that’s the burden of consciousness for you…

                        Lasting thoughts that never cease to last.

Dear Future Self,
            I know we haven’t had a round of proper introductions yet,
            but there’s a favor I really need to ask.
            I know it’s rude to request something from someone you won’t
            even meet for five or six years, but this is really important.

            I need a map for this thing called life.

            You seem to be pretty good at navigating it since you’re already
            ahead of me, and since I’m here and I really want to get where you are,
            and you and I both know how bad I am at spoken directions, maybe
            you could share a bit of an inside scoop with me?

            You see, there are these things that are bothering me, and I’m sure they
            bothered you at some point, too, but I’m having a tough time dealing
            with them and I could really use your help in understanding them.