The truth is, I’m not a good person. I make bad decisions. I lie, I cheat and I hope to get away with it. I put myself first, my fragile ego, my broken dreams ooze out of every sentence I say and I try to tell you I’m fucking alright with a crooked smile and twinkling eyes and you, you poor fucker, you believe me. You all believe me. I let my insecurities eat so much of my time that when I interact with anyone all it is is just a validation that I’m real. That I matter. That I’m alive. And I exaggerate stories to seem better. I tell you about my work out in the morning when all I did was wake up late and eat a doughnut for breakfast. I tell you how just last week I gave money to a homeless guy in a tunnel, one of those silent ones with the sign and fresher than normal looking cardboard signs but in reality, guess what. All I did was walk past with my gaze down, feeling my stomach knot in insincerity, stuck between a selfishness of wanting to keep my $1.70 jingling in my pocket and my dignity by not making eye contact. I cheat on my wife, regularly. She doesn’t know. Nor does she need to. I tell myself that it’s ok because you know… everyone is doing it. Or sometimes I tell myself its because I am just that way and there’s no other way and she will never understand but I don’t want to leave her because I am, underneath it all, cripplingly lonely. I tell her I’m meeting a friend for lunch but what’s really happening is that there’s a lot of quick fucking going on in the back of a car and moans of self loathing. Namely from yours truly. So yes, I make bad decisions, I lie and I cheat.
Just the other day…
But, does that make me a bad person?
Because… don’t we all? Don’t we all make bad decisions and lie and cheat? And I’m not even talking about your wife or gf or tinder date or whatever. I mean you. Don’t you make bad decisions and lie and cheat yourself? About yourself? To yourself?
Think about it.
I bet you, today, you’ve lied to yourself at least half a dozen times. Plus, throw in a couple of bad decisions (skipping breakfast) and your half assed workout and there you have it, probably about a bakers dozen worth of shit has come out of you and it’s not even what, 730am?
You piece of shit.
You already know its happening but you insist its ok. Or you distract yourself with that excuse for human evolution and scroll lifelessly through photos of other people lying to themselves. Masks on, smiles pinned, wrinkles smoothed with filters it’s fucking disgusting. You and your entire existence makes me sick. But I’m just the same. I do all the same things. I scroll mindlessly when I’m trying to escape my own nightmare, when I’m trying to for a second, just a second, to grab at something more real. To see a moment bigger than my sorry existence, to see a little humanity in the world so I scroll through my fucking feed and all I see is the same shit… rolled out differently.
I’m not a good person.
Just the other day….
It’s too early to tell you that story. We gotta wait at least until lunch time. You’ll need tp buckle in for this one. A royal flush of a shit show. Like how this happened I have no idea but boy, did it change my life, I’ll tell you that much now. You think you had it bad? No way buddy. No way, not now, not ever.
Oh you think you’re so tough?
You want to hear it now?
Ha, I’m warning you this is no candy cane of a tale. You better have some hard liquor and a plane ticket to like fucking Tijuana or something cos you’ll want to be out of here when I tell you what happened.
Give me your hands.