Okay, here it is, straight up. People think I’m rude, crass, bossy, curt. Maybe I am. But you just don’t get it. My friends, my teachers, my family, they don’t get it either. They all annoy the hell out of me. People. In general do. Screw ‘em all. They’re just so plain stupid. You’re stupid. Everyone cares about things that numb my mind and make me clench my fists. Life is not about stupid, petty, lame, insignificant things. It’s not. It is about so much more. I just don’t know what yet. And that mystery tortures me.
I try to play normal teen, go to parties, screw around, crush fastballs, stuff my face, tick off my thrills, but at the end of the day, I’m empty. Always. And I get irritated because my friends are not. Why? How are they so … even, full, happy, sad, fired up? They may have messed up lives, like Majesty just lost her dad, but at least they FEEL, EXPERIENCE, HOPE, LOVE. I don’t do any of that. I’m broken or something.
Judge me all you want, but you have not lived the life I’ve lived. I mean, yeah, I could tell you all about my traumatic, cry-me-a-river childhood because my mom died when I was 8, a tumor got sliced out of my head, and my dad’s fists, cigarettes and boots sent me to hell and back more times than I care to count, but I’m so not a poster child for the Oprah Winfrey Show or whatever the hell she calls it now on her own OWN network. Boo hoo hoo. But, that’s not what I’m talking about. I mean, you haven’t lived like me, with a fierce, unstoppable drive to conquer all, with an unquenchable lust, with a do-or-die, throw-caution-to-the-wind attitude, totally without a conscience … something I chose to discard like stinky, moldy baggage. I don’t even hesitate now when I want something. I just act on impulse.
You know those cartoons with the bad devil on one shoulder and the cute, cuddly angel on the other? Well, I gagged my angel. Even though that did render it silent, the thing still bore into me with those freaking judgmental eyes. I took care of that. It no longer bugs me. I’ll save you the gory details, but trust me, its demise was bloody and brutal and dust is far more coarse. I’m not sure exactly when I killed my winged conscience, okay, yeah, yeah, I guess I do know, come to think of it--it was that day in the woods when I discovered promises could be bound with blood. On that day, I decided to live for me and no one else. And the little devil that remained, with no haloed antagonist to counter it, clapped and laughed in maniacal glee at my every leap into the sticky web of debauchery. I became delirious with doing whatever I wanted. And I was promised gifts beyond measure to do exactly that. At first, it was a cool rush but somewhere along the line it became a burden.
To live, free, hard, fast, unbridled. That has been my track, my motto, my passion for years.
I’ve chased after everything I ever wanted, without hesitation or regret. I own a sweet ride, my pockets are always full, I’ve depantied all the babes I ever wanted, including two prostitutes and a stripper, I’ve leapt out of planes, scaled cliff sides, trashed myself into oblivion, danced under the power of ecstasy, hash and moonlight, hit the game winning homer. I have done it ALL. I’ve never held back.
I should be happy then, right? I mean, isn’t that the purpose of life? To live it to the fullest? I HAVE! If I’ve been doing everything for me, living exactly the way I want, fulfilling my wildest dreams, taking on the bull of life by the horns, I should feel like King of the World, right? I don’t.
I feel … like nothing. Okay, maybe not nothing. Like mud. Lousy, festering mud that’s quickly dissolving into nothing.
I’m the one with the clue, with the smarts, with the experience. I know more than you about how the world works. I have LIVED in a way you haven’t … somehow without even really living at all. It’s like embracing twisted magic, like running toward destruction. And I keep doing it. I can’t stop. There has to be something real, something the makes me feel whole and alive.
Yeah, I may be sharp with tongue sometimes, but you have no clue what turmoil brews within, how empty and lost I feel, and how stupid I think you and my friends are for getting it.
I am not the stupid one here. Of anyone on the planet, I should get it. But … I just don’t.
Thanks for stopping In Derek!! And Thank You Courtney for getting him to stop in...
Go get Courtney's new books Kings and Queens you wont be disappointed.( watch for my review in May)