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O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown!

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Aaaaaaaand she likes black guys
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I've ruined so many things in my life by being reckless and egomaniacal. Relationships, jobs, property... I just don't have the patience and humility to suck it up and deal with shit quietly. If I feel hurt, or like I'm being mistreated, I lash out. Most would call this an admirable quality; refusing to take shit from people, to be a doormat. Yet most of the time, I am a doormat. So much that I've earned myself the nickname "door matt" (because my name is Matt. There you fuckin go stalkers). And, when I can't take it anymore and I do lose my cool, I end up hurting myself, as well as people who don't deserve it.. fuck, even if they do "deserve" it, they don't deserve it. Thank god for my hindsight, or I'd never see anything at all.

So, on the last episode of "I hate my life and I'm telling livejournal all about it" our hero (that's me) was seeing a girl and having troubles. Like every other one of my posts on livejournal ever.

Long story short, we ended up pushing through the difficult times and sticking together. I even dropped everything and moved way out to Hickston, Hick Province (figure that one out, stalker fucks) and her and I and her daughter enjoyed a nice christmas and wonderful valentine's day together, as well as many other good times, while continuing to brave the valleys that peppered the way.

Then one day we hit a land mine.

She decided that she wanted to move out, on account of financial difficulties and general unhappiness - not so much with me as with life in general - and that it was in my best interest to move on as well. She didn't put it quite so coldly, but for length's sake - or lack of, or whatever - I've shortened it from the Sort-Of-Asshole Version to a Complete Asshole Version. Just sayin'. Now that being said, this is going to really make her seem like an asshole: She had been refusing to have sex with me for months. I mean, we had the occasional drunken or incredibly lucky encounter, but for 99% of the time, she was "too tired". Or whatever. Yet I still only had eyes for her, despite being deprived. She predicted that this would not last, though, and wanted to cut it short before it outlived its lastiness. A respectable move. All in all she was very considerate and kind in voicing her desire to split. She even told me I didn't need to leave, that only she would leave when she found somewhere to go. Despite this, I got very upset, and when she stepped out later that night, I got drunk, got even more upset, packed, and left. Classic me move.

I discovered that she had sent a long winded message to me which never arrived until the next morning about how she was sorry and that she loved me. And then followed the messages about her broken heart, and her daughter's broken heart, upon returning home to not me there. Crash.

I blew the one chance I had at a flawless relationship cycle, at parting ways on good terms with the ones I loved so much and making the most of our last few moments together, at redeeming myself for a lifetime of mangled attempts at love. At ever being anything to her ever again. And it was all because, while bawling between gulps from a wine bottle, I had to go and read a stupid article on the internet suggesting that the "it's not you, it's me" routine really meant "I want to fuck someone hotter than you right now because I'm ovulating, so fuck off please I need to do my lady business. With this tall hunk with tattoos. Or this black guy. Call me when I'm bleeding out through my vagina and maybe I'll let ya dunk your wiener in there you sappy average pansy." That's really what it sounded like to me. Ya really knew exactly where and when to hit and how hard didn't ya, fuckin' internet?
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I wish my balls were torn off.
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Ok maybe my dream wasn't about wings being torn off.  Maybe it was my balls being torn off.  while i was growing wings at the same time.

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If you can't tell from my last five christmas posts, i have as much love for the dressed up pagan holiday as two black friday shoppers going for the last tablet at wal mart.

I was thinking today, as i was looking for jobs - jobs which all disappear and go into hibernation during the time of year which demands the most spending - to be able to pay rent on the 15th or face spending an arctic winter sleeping in my used '99 ford taurus, how lucky those owners and shareholders of giant profit-cow businesses are to be able to survive on the harvest reaped from the masses of poorer people, who take what little they can scrounge up out of the peanut rations doled out to them for breaking their brains and backs day in and day out to make even more money for said owners, and spend it on overpriced crap for a tradition dreamed up by the same type of rich people to keep making them rich, and at the end be left struggling and clawing to survive.

Yeah, i was just thinking about that.  Merry fuckin christmas.

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I'm starting to think my dream was not of me growing wings but rather having them torn off

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Right now there couldn't be a better time to feel suicidal.  I have no money.  collectors are calling me about everything from the car i don't own anymore but still have to make payments on, to the guard rail that i smashed with said car that i owe the city for, to the three kids i never see who i have to pay a third of my income to before taxes.  My rent cheque will bounce, and we're on our last strike.  My piece of shit car sounds like its going to die.  I'm separated from the woman i love.  I have less than nothing.  All i have is hope.  I still have hope...

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I think hollywood has cast a spell over me or something. every time i feel like something good happens to me im afraid to believe it because in the movies that's when the good thing is taken away from the hero, or turns out to not be a good thing.  The old people were right: tv is crap.

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i was always told not to worry about being picked last for teams because if it were a math team instead of a baseball team I'd probably be picked firstish.  great, i thought, when are the tryouts and are the cheerleaders hot?

there are more things you learn in school than what they actually teach, and one of them is that, typically speaking anyways, physical performance is more likely than anything to get you what you want in life.

this thing they tell you about education being the key to success, it's a scam.  the engineers working the mcdonalds drive thru and the millionaire high school pot dealers are living proof of this.

and this thing they tell you about how being a decent man is the key to finding love and happiness in relationships is also shyte.  no need to point out the living proof.

women like being treated with love and respect, but like in jail, they also need to be guaranteed certain things. survival related things.  any chump can hold open a door.

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i dreamt i was growing wings.  the pain was so unbelievable, but it was a good pain.  pleasure and pain all at once. even though i was hunched over crying i still had this unflappable urge to go through with it, because the end result was worth it.  i mean, wings, come on.

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