Jenny, You're Barely Alive

Jesus Christ.....

Blasphemy...oh my blasphemy....

I was told that I have a seat reserved in Hell. Hell awaits the bulb of searching that I've entertained it with during this little lifetime. Cory, you're barely alive. Jesus Christ. I hope the devil is a gracious host. I hope he appreciates the lengths I went through to meet his demands. All the condenscion and the blind eyes I diverted to those in need. On my knees I told God that I would be my brothers keeper...as He asks in the Good Book...but God Damn Him...He's got me barely alive. Maybe there is no Hell. Maybe Hell resides with us on Earth...like a sour neighbor. One who doesn't mow his lawn and drives your property value down, which only we Americans find annoying.

I could have two cars and a broken moon in front of my lawn in another country where I scratched and clawed through life and God wouldn't be quite the prick that He is to those who are perfected through the privileged life...Heaven through the eye of the needle type shit. But that's the American way right? I have the means and the finding to be my own God. I don't need God, because I get my own wishes brought to me by the stars I shoot down with my "anti-aircraft guns" of fortitude. If I'm foolish enough to believe that, then cut me down...which I'm not...truly not. Adam was only a spectator. He did exactly what I would've done. He trusted the most beautiful creature in the world. Her curves led him to the fall. I guess she wanted to know shit, right? It's funny...the Bible explains, in detail, the inherent nature of women. This may sound sexist, but I don't give a shit...they want to know everything...at least those I've been involved with. And that's not just to say those who were romantic with me. Every one of them. They are the most curious creatures in existence. Their very nature is to analyze. Their very nature is to have a bead on that which they are enthralled with. Once they have every detail mapped out, they are hardened with moving on to something else that they can immerse themselves in.

God Damn their fish-like ways. Shine something flashy in front of their eyes and they bite like a tiger shark off the coast of California. Don't blame me for my parallels Mark Twain...you did it too. Your complete inability to figure out the opposite sex is exactly what has plagued all those with a penis between their legs. The phallus is your greatest blessing and simultaneously your greatest curse. Don't make exceptions to me...for you know EXACTLY what I speak of.

Eve.

It's not only the spin cycle that their minds are on. It's the ruling of emotion that rules their days. For fucks sake...HOW CAN EMOTION RULE THAT MUCH??? It's all-encompassing with them.

I am totally intrigued by their ways. And if you're a girl reading this...then YES I've been intrigued by you. Swallowed like a whirlpool in the sea. I'm intrigued by you. More so than anything else this world has to offer. Even every fiber in the muscles in my abdomen tense when my mind examines your every move. I'm totally fucking intrigued. Like a scientist studying your every move, I want to know what makes you tick. I want to know your biological patterns, and the peaks and valleys that you oh so comfortably find yourself in, when I'm trying to find level ground to place my feet.

God put you on this Earth to drive us crazy.

I wonder about God's intentions.

God bless celibacy. I understand. By the way, I trust Your every omnipotent move...even if I don't trust it.

I think on some level You might be able to relate. I mean, for what it's worth, even You couldn't control those who were closest to You.