Why we **** and the irrational logic that is ego.

      People really are the worst. No other creature on the planet is as unapologetically narcissistic, ego driven, and petty as we are. And it baffles the **** out of me.
      Let’s look at it from a logical point of view. You wake up in the morning and you think to yourself “I’m a person of fine caliber who deserves the undying love I get.” You’re not and you don’t. You’re a piece of self serving **** and I’ll prove it to you.
       You brush your teeth. You’re supporting a chemical company that tested the chemicals they used to come up with that refreshing minty taste on animals. A creature died so that you can feel clean.
        Your shoes were made by an uneducated poor as **** Malaysian child that sleeps on a dirt floor and hasn’t eaten in two days. But no, they look great on you. You ******* donkey.
        Your phone? That precious ****** device you use to keep the secrets of who you actually are. Those pics, those texts. The minerals used to make that phone were mined by slaves under deplorable working conditions. However, you need to get that ****** selfie so ole Ping Pongs stage seventeen cancer is going to have to wait *******.
        The oil burnt off by the giant ****** container ship they used to transport 90% of the useless **** you have to buy from Walmart? Well that kind of negates your eco friendly tampons, so no Janet you’re not doing **** to save the planet.
         Look. I have no problem with people doing as they do. But for ***** sake, own up to it. If you’re going to be a *******, stop ******* kidding yourself into thinking you’re entitled. Because you’re not.
         Ask nature. I assure you if a Timber wolf should approach you with the ability to talk. He’s not going to say “I ******* love what you’ve done with the place.” Tress are not going to hug you and birds aren’t going to sing to you. They hate you. Nature hates you. Because we’ve done nothing but hate **** her and ourselves at every turn.
         People know they don’t have long. They know their time is short. So they seek out the immediate sources of gratification. “Because tomorrow may not be here Jimmy so if Marilyn wants an interracial ****** *******. What am I as her husband to say?” *** Daryl?
         Hence all the pain we inflict on ourselves and others. The typical person will cut the throat of anything they covet if the right buttons are pushed. It’s inevitable. Even if it means cutting off our noses to spite our faces. A person will do it every time.
        That’s your reason to not trust a ******* if you’re looking for one. Not because of who they are. But because of what they are.
         People are hypocritical cancerous cells hell bent on the indulgences of our momentary needs. That’s it. We deserve nothing because our behavior doesn’t warrant it. We give nothing back in comparison to what we take and we’re as apathetic as **** about it.
         It’s always been the reason for my own self loathing. I feel like I should be apologizing to ******* Gaia every morning for what I’m about to do. I feel like I deserve every bit of pain I’ve suffered for the slights my mere existence has brought upon the world and other people. And.
        That’s what ****** me off about other people. Especially the ones that like themselves. The **** did you do? Cure cancer? You **** and you’re too ****** stupid to even know why. You’re not as nice as you think you are. Because I bet I can round up at least a dozen ******* from your past that would agree. And just by statistics alone, they’re not all wrong.
         We’ve all done our damage. We’ve all hurt someone. We’ve lied for our own benefit and there’s no measure to how far we’d go to secure that which lets us sleep at night. It’s what we are.
         I only ask that people own up to it. Stop kidding yourself into thinking what you get in life is earned or deserved. I can assure you that there is a perfectly irrational answer for it all. And it’s not because you’re special.

I ended up throwing the hotdog out and left it to the bag of chips to satiate my hunger. It was the first time I’d actually come across a park with those stone chess boards.
I didn’t have a set with me. Honestly I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to play anyway. I’d hoped I’d at least be lucky enough to watch other people play.
I got to my third **** and was getting ready to give up when I saw them. This little boy, probably five, walking with an old man. He was holding his hand in a guiding manner towards the tables. A very old looking case tucked under his arm and a solem look in his face. I couldn’t see the face of the old man. He had a scarf covering most of it.
They shuffled through the crisp autumn dead to the second table down from where I was sitting. The boy looked at me for a moment before opening his chess case. Just a blank stare but at the same time, melancholic.
He set the pieces up before the old man and sat down. He’d given the old man the white side so he’d go first. Figured I was getting a chance to enjoy a wholesome moment so I moved a little closer. “That’s close enough.” The old man grumbled without even looking to see how far I’d gotten. So I stopped. “You can stay. Just be quiet.” The little boy said. He too not looking at me. Just rocking his legs back and forth.
The old man moved the kings pawn two spaces. Fischer did this a lot. The little boy countered with his queens pawn. The old man snatched the boys pawn and slammed his down. The first blow had been struck. This should be if nothing else interesting I thought to myself.
The two of them set about their tactics. Setting up their offensive and defensive strategies. And the little boy was able to slay a bishop in the process.
It’d been about twenty minutes since they started their game. I got up to throw my trash out and I get an alert on my phone from my news source. Guam got hit by a tsunami. Expected death toll in the thousands.
Thinking nothing of it I return to my seat. People die everyday all over the world. No since in fretting over a place I’ll never go to and people I don’t know.
I sat back down in time to see the little boy capture one of the old mans pawns. The sky was getting darker but my phone hadn’t said anything about rain. These two didn’t seem worried and I was more interested in their game.
A few minutes later my phone chimes again. A massive earthquake has hit Venezuela. Nine point something or other. Didn’t read the article. After all, why wouldn’t the rules that applied to Guam apply to Venezuela? I noticed people scurrying to leave the park under threat of a thunderstorm but since these two were unfazed. So was I.
They continued with their game never saying a word to one another or even acknowledging me. Trading board advantages at what seemed to be a fairly normal pace. Each taking a few minutes or more to make their move.
The old man set his queens rook up for sacrifice. He was going to try to use his knight to fork the kids kings bishop and his queen. The kid took the bait and the rook fell. I get a text from my friend the tug boat captain. He’d been dragging barges down the river for the past two months while they dredged out the harbor. It’s just a pic of a shitload of dead fish with “***” written under it. I asked him if this was on the river he was on. He said yes. That the fish had all just died. By the thousands they were just floating to the surface. I figured it was probably a chemical spill somewhere on the river and told him my thoughts. He made a lame sushi joke and I put my phone away to focus on the game.
I wanted to bring up to these two what had occurred since their game started. The tsunami in Guam, the earthquake in Venezuela, the dead fish. But if they wanted to talk to me, they would have already. So I just lit up another **** and leaned back to watch the game.
The skies had gotten murky and seemed to stir. The birds had grown restless and confused. Landing and flying off in weird patterns. It looked like some were performing touch and gos. Others would either take off like normal and a few just crashed into the earth with fatal results.
The old man moved in once again to snag the little boys queen but ended up losing another pawn.
My phone chimed again with another alert. Much of Yellowstone was being destroyed by a wild fire that was probably started by lightening.
Suddenly the little boy was able to force a decision on the old man. He’d split the line between the old mans queen and his king. The little boy said with no enthusiasm and with subtlety “check”.
The old man could take the bishop but would lose his queen to the boys knight. It was then I saw the old man start to tear up. He wasn’t outwardly emotional about it and the boy made no efforts to console the old man.
The old man took the boys bishop and sacrificed his queen. Then he reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a kerchief to wipe his tears away. Then he hands it over to me without looking up and just says “run”.
I was confused at first but then the little boy turned and said “he’s right, you should run to something you love”.
I got up and watched for a few minutes longer. I realized they’d put the game on hold and weren’t going to move again until I left. So I went to use the bathroom there in the park. I didn’t need to pass by them again to leave the park but I wanted to see if one of them had made a move while I was on the *******.
As I strolled back by on my way out of the park I glanced at the board one more time. From what I could tell the little boy was about four moves from checkmating the old man.
My phone chimed, it was my news source again. The internet was flooded with images of the moon from the other side of the world. It’d turned a blood red. The pictures were almost too hard to believe.
Just before getting here. Every radio station went dead. It’s just static from one end of the dial to the other.
So here I am. And you can believe me or not. All I can tell you is every time that little boy won a piece, something bad happened. Maybe it’s the final battle between good and evil over there in the park. I don’t know. But here I am. At the end of the world.
And maybe I am crazy. But they did tell me to run to something I love.
So here I am.

How many times do I have to watch you throw away what I’d **** for just to survive?

Actions have consequences
If you keep cutting someone
Eventually they’re going to bleed out

You want the rub?
You want to know why it’s so ******* ones self funny?
When you come at me,
To tell me of your hatred for me.
I don’t hate you.
Because I agree with you.
Every word.

Listen
I don’t want the crafted you
I don’t want the person you want me to think you are
I want the real you
Whether in prose or in person
I want the you that cries before the moon because you think she doesn’t love you
I want the you that’s been sculpted by pain
Throw yourself at me
With all the fury of a class five hurricane drunk off destruction
I want you to cut off your ******* hands and paint your world
I want you to pound your fists against the very walls you put up
To cry before the demon that is yourself
Until your knees buckle and that wall drips with the blood of your spite
Tell me who it is you hold in contempt
Tell me who it is that holds your heart at gunpoint
Spare me your ******* delusions
Awaken the beast that slumbers in the darkest chambers of your heart
Rouse that foul creature to bear the weight of your rage
If not
Then why

I hope there’s a place
Or better, a time
When all this crazy
Is no longer mine

They’ll pull out of the fridge
And they’ll say
“Do you want this?”
“If you don’t want it I’m just going to throw it away.”
I have to smile to myself.
Because I feel the same way about my heart.

It’s
It’s like being
An unfunny joke
An heirloom nobody wants
Watching them come and go
Only acknowledging it out of contempt
And
And you think
Well there’s gotta be
Someone, somewhere
That wants it, that would love it
But it’s too late now, someone dropped it
Now it’s just too broken

Ok. Here’s how it’s going to happen.
I’m going to tell you a joke.
You’ll laugh.
I’ll write you a poem.
You’ll like it.
We’ll hang out.
I’m going to ask about you.
You’ll ask about me.
I’ll give you a vague but reassuring response.
I’ll tell you another joke to change the subject.
You’ll look into my dead blue eyes and wonder.
But just for a moment.
I’ll write you more poetry.
Encouraging **** that references things you’ve told me about yourself.
You’re going to take that as me listening to you and you’ll point it out to your friends.
It’s to validate the eventuality.
Next comes the gesture.
Go with you to see a dying relative, help you bury a rabbit (I didn’t actually bury it. I just threw it in the dumpster. Then I kicked a bunch of dirt around and told you that was the spot. So all that time you were just standing over a meaningless patch of dirt crying.)
We bang.
Then like a **** at an ****, I just leave you feeling disgusted with yourself.

you don’t matter
never have, never will
you don’t even matter to me
and I’m you

what’s left of me is lying right there by your feet
and I can save you
but you gotta pick that up

If I could have you all in one room
Those of you who’ve died
Those of you who jeered
And those of you who lied
Let’s not forget the martyrs
The hero’s long forgotten
The liars in ommission
The cowards and the rotten
You’ve done your very worst
You never got my best
You were simply never worth it
Never even passed the test

I never got to see the Milky Way
The northern lights
Or Breckinridge
I never saw a shooting star
The Louvre
Or a snowy owl
However, you let me see you
So time can have my eyes
I’ve already seen the most beautiful thing I’ll ever see

She asked “Did you take the trash out?”
How do I answer that?
I guess.
There’s still more here.
There are things waiting to be trash
There’s things that we think are things but they’re actually trash
There are things that I think are things but you think they’re thrash and vice versa
We’re eventually going to go out and buy things that will one day become trash
Then someone is going to take the trash and turn it back into a thing until no one wants that thing then it goes back to being trash
Perhaps it’s because we’re so used to handling trash
That sometimes we tend to treat each other the same way

And no, I didn’t take the trash out

Some people are just one word
Others a few more
Even a few that are many
For you
There are no words
Because you’re an experience
Just as one can’t explain
What it’s like to lie in the sun
To someone who’s never seen the sun
I can’t tell the world
Why I love you

My shadow
Featureless, quiet, mysterious
Is a better version of me than I