I am so f**king  tired. You – you know exactly who you are – betrayed me. You betrayed my trust. What is wrong with you? Do you have some mechanism built into your genetic code that compels you to destroy anyone who tries to be nice or good to you? To be your friend? You must hate yourself so deeply that you can’t help it. I can’t think of any other thing that would explain it.

Do you think about anyone other than yourself? What were you thinking when you sent that letter? You know it had no business being sent. But you took it and sent it. It’s my fault for writing it. I should have never written it. People shouldn’t have such vile anger in them, but I do, and I put it away, safe in a letter, and I buried it where I thought it would be left alone to dissipate in it’s own good time. But you sniffed it out, and you dug it up and you sent it. You wanted to hurt someone and you used my words to do it, because you have no self-esteem.

You have no “center” to write an evil f**ked up letter like that from. So you take other peoples’ evil f**ked up shit, and you orchestrate it into your own little symphony of hell and you throw it at people. You aim to kill. You’ve betrayed everyone who has ever tried to help you. Your relentless need for bigger and worse and more grandiose trauma, and the hell you’ve created with that need, has destroyed any feelings of kindness or compassion anyone might have for you, any desire someone might have to be in your presence, so you try to “trick” kindness or attention out of them, by f**king with them.

Years and years of this game has destroyed your credibility. You know that, don’t you? You might not admit it, but you know it. You’ve lost your credibility, so you used mine, and my stupid, personal, private letter - my little rage-filled rant - to make one more big f**kng mess that you can star in. Congratulations. You’re back where you belong: Center Stage. You’ve out-done yourself once again.

You are so addicted to trauma and hell, you make a mockery of the words “trauma queen”. You just ended any compassion or desire for compassion I have left. I’m sorry. You f**king don’t know when to stop, do you? You see life and you take your little knife and rip a big f**king hole in it, so that all your hell can pour through it into other peoples’ lives. And when you’re done, after having learned nothing, gained nothing, changed nothing, you just go find another life to rip a hole in. The irony here is that I wrote that letter on your behalf, because I felt that you were being mistreated, but I was wrong. You asked for what you got. I just failed to see the truth. I let my sentiment and compassion blind me to the reality of the whole f**ked up mess. And now I feel nothing. Disgust maybe. Betrayal. O.k. so I feel something. Big f**king wow.

What pleasure can you possibly get from that? Did you think about the consequences of sending that letter? At all? Did it occur to you that there would be repercussions? For a lot of people? I genuinely want to know. Well, I guess I would if I wasn’t too tired of your hellshit and my anger to care anymore. God, I’m a fool. A f**king blind fool. I don’t know. Maybe I’m arrogant for thinking that caring or giving a shit, or anything I thought or felt or hoped for in this whole pile of shit, mattered.

I just walked out of a lot of doors. I don’t know what else to do. I closed them and locked them and I’m not going back into them – the ones that haven’t already been locked on me. I could go knock on doors and beg forgiveness or mercy and try to make things right but I don’t want to work this shit out anymore. I’m tired. It never ends. It’s pointless. Maybe some things you just have to walk away from.

I’m not sending this letter to you. I’m done with you. You can sniff this letter out, if you give enough of a f**k, but I know you don’t. I suspect that the only way this letter might mean something to you, is if you see an opportunity to use it to manipulate or f**kwith someone. As far as that other letter goes: you can take it, and you can frame it, and put it on your wall; it’s your little victory, isn’t it? Bravo for you.

Why am I putting this letter here? Maybe because I want to be center stage. I don’t know. I think the reason why though, is that I have a feeling that I’m not the only person in the world to feel betrayed. Maybe out there, there’s a soul who’ll read this, and it’s just what they need, to walk away from a bad situation. Maybe. Maybe somewhere, a million miles away, a speck of good can come out of my hell – and yours.

Maybe I just don’t have anywhere else to put it. F**king pathetic.

It always gets down to taking responsibility for your actions. As far as my own personal responsibility goes: maybe I shouldn’t have ever written that letter. Anger can be so destructive. So I f**ked up letting it out. Maybe instead, I should have written a nice little polite, politically correct “heads up” letter to all the people I mentioned in that letter, expressing some general feelings that have been “bugging” me - some ongoing “issues”, and asked if they’d be willing to talk about the whole situation. That would have been the mature thing to do. But that’s all we ever do. Talk talk talk talk talk. f**king empty shallow meaningless futile words accentuated with all the right facial expressions, all the right hand gestures. And when all is said and done, it all goes right back to what it was.

I get so tired of the “nice” face that people put on. The f**king Facebook face. The face that posts links to books about forgiveness and then blocks the person with whom forgiveness needs to happen. What the f**k is that? I’m just taking a wack at it but if I had to put a name on that, I’d call it hypocrisy. If you do talk, you talk about stuff all polite and proper and politically correct and it ends up amounting to nothing more than another ass kissing session. You agree to the unanimous conclusion that the shit has been aired, talked about and mutually resolved; you say your pleasant goodbyes, and walk away from the problem only to find that the pile of shit is there, still there. Nothing has changed, nothing has been resolved, it’s all right there exactly as it was. Life goes on, the bomb goes off again and all f**king hellfire breaks loose. Again. And everyone is just so astounded at how shocking and horrible and nuts it all is. How could it happen again?

I don’t know. Maybe I’m just stupid. Maybe I think about stuff too much. Maybe I should just let it go and get on with my life, avoiding anyone or anything that might bring me nearer to that pile of shit. That’s what everyone else seems to be doing. Maybe I should just take my cue from them and go on my merry little way with a big smile plastered on my face.

F**k me. I’m just crying because I thought I could be a superhero for a moment. I thought I could do good and have it make a difference. I’m just another arrogant, self-righteous prick. I just wanted to be special.

It must be about something else. Maybe I’ll look at things in a different way and see if I can find the clue that I’m missing. The tiny piece of the puzzle that makes shit “make sense”.

Especially during these difficult economic times, some guys complain about spending $80 dollars for roses plus $100 for dinner plus the cost of an expensive Valentines Day gift. Some guys even feel like they are being played like a slot machine. Other guys enjoy the opportunity to express their love and appreciation and have no problem spending a lot of money even if it means running up their credit cards.

What say you?

From the horror stories we hear, or in reality have to face, cancer is a four letter word. It is emotionally damaging to the diagnosed, and to their loved ones.  It is a killer and everything about the disease is only an understatement.  The most terrifying aspect of the epidemic is that it can not be prevented.  Smoking may speed up processes like brain tumors, or melenoma, but if you are prone to not being able to fight off the ailment, odds are you will get it. (With the exception of smokers and throat cancer)

Unless you are fleeing to Canada for free MRI’s and CAT scans, the average American can not afford a full body cavity search.  If you could stop your mother from contracting breast cancer, you would.  If you could forsee your younger brothers lymphoma, you would prohibit it. Likewise with grandpas prostate cancer. (see http://www.cancer.gov/cancertopics/alphalist for an A-Z list of cancers)  Life is a crapshoot when it comes to thinking about what way and when are we gonna go out. (Please be like Elvis on the can)

What is more disturbing, is that there is another epidemic that is completely contradictory to the means of contraction regarding cancer, and it’s AIDS.  HIV left behind 15 million orphans last year.  Many of the victims are born into the disease.  AIDS is predominantly spread by unprotected sex, and desperate drug users.  Ok, that is well known information.  They preach safe sex all the time, or if you turn on Disney, the Jonas brothers say abstinence is the way to go.  I can’t wait to see whose gay, or the first to father a child under 20 years old in that band. But I digress.

AIDS is a disease we continue to bring upon ourselves.  Lusting, and shamelessly being foolish with our sexual endeavors.  Whether it is the man whore, the slut, or the unsuspecting one night stand, we are all at risk. Particularly in densely populated cities, where it is impossible to fathom your partners sexual history.  The death casts nothing but a painful, dreadful shadow on those inflicted.  Torturous, and relentless in its conquest of crumbling the bodies immune system until the body caves in on itself.  In Africa that’s considered a Tuesday.

Wake up America, come on, seriously, and insert another whiny sounding colloquialism here. Put on your cock balloons, plug in your diaphragms, or go to rehab if you’ve ever thought about sticking a needle in your arm.  I hope those lovely images make you think twice before trying to bang some one off craigslist.

(glance at the all the categories that this topic can relate to)

Older Men - Pros

 

If the older man had lead a life that has gained him experience and wisdom, he can relax and still keep the fires burning.

 

He knows what sexy is even when it’s not within the commercial guidelines.

 

If He is wise enough, he knows what battles to pick, and how to do things for a woman that will make her appreciate him, even if it is a small gesture. He does this not just because of her needs, but because of his needs. He knows if he messes up, his previous good nature may save him from full onslaught of his misdoings.

 

He is intelligent enough to know that what he has isn’t as important in materials, as in his relationship. He enjoys pleasuring his woman. He knows how to keep his woman interested not only in him, but in their relationship.

 

He may be more established, and be able to allow his woman things that is needed and sometimes remembers things she wants, because he understands that is needed too.

 

An older man most likely will not need to have continuous noise or talking and understands that being together means just being in the same room to be close.

 

Older Men - Cons

 

Some older men do not gain enough experience or wisdom to understand how to keep a woman - younger or older.

 

He may want to rain his kingdom, but loose the rains through direct orders, or petty guidelines that only provokes a fight, or a power struggle.

 

Not changing or understanding the change that is necessary means that he may be too settled in, and won’t want to do what he could to help keep the relationship

 

He may not understand the underlying importance of helping his mate feel important to him as a woman, and again fail his part in the relationship.

 

He may not understand the importance of giving to a woman sexually, and at times over do or misunderstand because he has not taking the time to find out how to.

 

Younger Men – Pros

 

If the younger man enjoys women, he will be well liked and often have the most success.

Not just sexually, but in friendship.

 

Although younger men may or may not be less wrinkled, or they may have more muscles, their energy to life is refreshing. Even if a woman is much older, she can enjoy and allow the fever for life and relish it. Especially after being with a man who does not relish much.

 

Creation of a relationship with a woman will be important to him. It is not always sexual, but his energy to sustain that will be plenty.

 

A younger man will often want to please a woman and find it erotic for himself to do so for a woman. Women like this, and it does not have to be a lot of drama to accomplish this. Woman also like cunninlingus, some older men do not do this.

 

Younger men like to explore, while older men may have a tendency to follow “old directions” even if the highway has changed some.

 

Younger Men – Cons

 

Younger men seemed to have less patience in things, and may not understand how to retain his emotions, or how to express them properly when something devastating happens.

 

Younger men may not want to stay in and just enjoy the evening as it is, but rather feel the need to always moving or doing and not understand the quiet closeness.

 

It may be harder for the younger man to feel comfortable with your older friends, however; for some they may feel more comfortable.

 

Younger men tend to be in need for the next adventure, while some may not be adventuring enough and feel lost.

 

Men: In conclusion, all men are stubborn and will not stop and ask for directions.

 

I want to see YOUR input on Cons and Pros of Younger and Older Men

Okay. Where do I start? Let me first say that I love my husband, and most of the time, he’s caring, kind, and sweet. But today was the utmost mean thing he has done, in the entire existence of our eight year marriage, that teetered on the brink of pure scummy husbandly selfishness.

I’m home from a sweet trip down Holiday Lane with my four-year-old son. It was wonderful. Humongous candy cane and snowflake lights decorated the street lamps, the Union Square tree lit up my son’s face as the most prized mental picture of the years to come, and we were able to score free hot chocolate from the Ghirardelli square store (and I loooove chocolate.)

But, my husband has been the bearer of kill joy today. Instead of surprising and meeting him after work, he was off early and already home by the time my son and I arrived downtown. After refusing to meet us and telling me he would be home the rest of the day because he was tired, he decided to go out with his bestfriend and “forgot” his cellphone.

My son and I were stranded in the freezing cold darkness (okay, I’m exaggerating a little) of the Bart Station. Add to that, we had a “wonderful performance” presented by the  woman screaming “You punk a** bi***, you ain’t never gonna see yo son again!”  all across the bart station as I was scrambling all the numbers I needed to call him at. I finally caught him on his bestfriend’s number to tell him that he forgot to pick me up, then he replies “What did you want me to do, wait around for you all night?” 

I hung up on him, called HIS mom, and she picked me up without hesitation.

Tonight, I want to lock and leave a note on the bedroom door:

Rely on the couch to sleep on tonight, like I rely on your mom to pick me up from the bart station.

Of course, I’m not that cold or callous to leave a silly nasty note And I’m not about to let his need to “hang out with the boys” damper the rest of my night. I’m still pissed, angry, and the phones are still shut off - but I’ll just let my temper simmer for the holidays since, regardless of the Grinch’s attempt, I’m still in the mood for this night and the holiday season to be peaceful. And on the bright side (because of this) maybe, just maybe, he’ll feel guilty enough to buy me a better present than the mechanical/computer upgrades that he’s been buying me for the last few years (last year: extra GB stick, the year before that: an Ipod.)

Wishful thinking on my behalf, I suppose. Catching my husband anywhere near a Macy’s Womens department is like waiting for reindeers to fly.

Happy Holidays to all.

I may not be, or have been, the cleanest person in the world and I am far from anal-retentive but I have tried my best to be closer to godliness and have made myself a schedule: Every Tuesday is “cleaning day”. I get my Suzie homemaker apron on and tie a bandana around my head and

- GO

- TO

- TOWN.

Windexing counters, cloroxing cabinets, and scrubbing metal pots and pans all day even.

But why is it (oh why oh why is it???) that my house can never STAY CLEAN for at least one whole day. For goodness sake, I was out Christmas shopping all day today and yet it was still capable of being turned upside down the four hours I was away and not one person was home. Not one! Just the dogs. Yet, miraculously, somehow they were able to grab Christmas stockings and tear them to shreds, Santa poof and all, spreading the evil inner stuffing face fuzz all over the wool carpets. Just when I thought the battle could have been over.

I spent the rest of the afternoon picking out and vacuuming stubborn cloud like bunnies and rebel lint balls galore.

And now I’m tired. I’m absolutely sick and tired of cleaning up after every one – even myself.

I’m at the point where I would desperately just like to endure my old godforsaken “9 to nowhere” job that I obliviously enjoyed before this whole marriage pushed me into the direction of the maid my husband always wanted.

Argh! Sometimes I wonder if this is genuine and divine karma for all the times my mother asked me nicely to clean my room and I never did.

The laundry buzzer rings…<–>

Older men want to be with younger women for three key reasons:

 

1) Physical Attraction

2) Ego

3) Baggage

 

First off, “Physical Attraction”….this is a given. Younger women are more attractive, physically fit, all in all just plain hot. Think of it this way, if you could afford a Mercedes, why buy a model that is five years old and not the new model?

 

Secondly, it’s no surprise to anyone that men carry the trait of “EGO”. The mid-life man may feel insecure, they need to know they still have that vitality, that swagger and nailing a 22 year-old girlfriend is like having the nicer car, the tricked out soundsystem, the LCD flat screen, and yes, the biggest dick. An arms race is what it is. Men have spent their twenties and thirties constantly upgrading their “toys”, getting that promotion, finding a bigger pad each time you move, and  buying the latest gadgets. Having a younger girlfriend is the queen in the chessboard of toys.

 

Lastly, the word all men hate, “BAGGAGE”. Yes, we all have it but we hate it as well. Older women come with baggage. They come with a complicated history, and that my friend is a book most men don’t want to read.

 

To sum it all up, if I was to choose the main the reason; it would be the ego factor. When it’s all said and done the young girlfriend is the mans trophy; it’s the royal flush, the MVP, the jackpot. It’s like what I said before, it’s an arms race out there for us men and we just want to be the first one to make it to the finish line.