The boiling kettle

In the last two weeks, I have wanted to neither talk, nor be talked to. Even texting and IMing seem like a lot of effort. I've gone from a need to attack everyone anf everything that has ever hurt me especially women, to wanting nothing more than to curl up into a ball and have some one tell me it'd be alright. My darker thoughts on the fairer sex have returned in full force, leaving me with some truly brooding moments.

It probably doesn't help that it's "Brest Cancer awareness month" Not that I'd wish cancer on anyone but just why exactly should we give a rats ass about this type of cancer when there are others that are far more horrible, painful and yes disfiguring? I never hear of a "prostrate cancer awareness month" and no one wears any god dam ribbons for pancreatic cancer, or lung cancer or skin cancer. It seems so dam self centered, when this is one of the most treatable cancers around!

Then theres all the god dam bright colors. All the shape hugging clothes. EVEN IF THEIR SHAPE IS THAT OF A GOD DAM HIPPO!!! It seems like at every turn I'm acausted but extreme femininity. its hard to forget when the only shopping center nearby is jam paced with so many god dam stores for women that you think females run the dam planet. And all of it so "innocent" the giggles the smiles, it all seems like the world is having a good laugh at me. As if all the joys promised in those smiles, giggles and expertly maintained looks will never be mine to enjoy.

Worse I think almost EVERY SINGLE, EX I'm still in contact with has said, word for word almost the EXACT SAME THING when it comes to dealing with this latest heartbreak. Cheer up, better you know know, you're still young, and the right one is out there. Dear God, If I hear that one more time I will fucking scream! Lets see Lisa is getting married (to the jodi she left me for) Erika found the man of her dreams, who apparently hasn't learned how to deal with things himself and has to be bailed out of everything by his family. And now of all people, MARTHA has seen fit to swoop back into my life and give me advise on love and life in general. she's got a two year old and is going absolutely gaga over him all the freaking time. and of course all three of the aforementioned women have said the SAME FUCKING THING!!! Even Katie MaQueen has said as much.

What am I supposed to say to all of this? I feel more alone than ever. I feel hopeless, and the simple act of leaving my room has become. . . difficult. More than getting food at the DFAC, I have been almost paralyzed. I'm so glad to know that Jessi was so dam quick to move on with her life, but now, if its at all possible, I feel worse than I did when Lisa dumped me. I feel like this hopeless morose motherfucker that can't get anything right.

Perhaps the worst part of all this, is that no matter how much I throw up the "i don't give a rats ass" flag, I'm still universally described as a "good man". Its like I'm some kind of dudly do right that everybody wants in their life, and for some reason I CAN'T KEEP A FUCKING GIRLFRIEND!!! the thing that has me beating my head against the wall is that pretty much all of my ex's (maybe with the exception of Lisa, I've been a bit of a dick to her lately) keep telling me what a great guy I am. How unique and rare I am, and how rare it is to find someone as good as me. I ask this: If that's the case then why, why WHY did (all of you) break up with me? it nearly brings me to tears with sheer insanity of all of it.

The simple fact is I honestly don't know how I could hurt more. It feels like losing Jessi over something so dammed trivial is like a dam Greek tragity. What Doom have I brought upon myself that I am forced again and again to bare my soul only to have it thrown again in my face. Truly:how much more pain can I take?

so I sit and watch movies in my room and try to pretend I don't feel the cold Icy hand of Death upon my shoulder, slowly chilling my soul, and paralyzing me with fear. I might as well be in a George Romero flick for all the good my personal life has done me.