Losing My Way

Today is an experiment in phrasing. Recently I had my biggest success in a blog, which I believe was due to the title alone, so to verify my conclusion I will put the same word in the title of this entry as well. I will also endeavor to make it more entertaining, since the record setting post was rather gloomy. It had started out uninhibited, to the point of being unhinged, but against my policy, I changed everything about the post, taking out all the references to putting a cock in my mouth, and the brief mention of getting my ass fucked. Why I did that was wrong, because this blog is meant to be totally free and honest, and I feel so ahamed for having done that. So what if sometimes I get all excited for a man to get his hands on me and make me do whatever he desires so muchthatIlosealltrackofpunctuation.whycarewhenthere'sanicecockgoinginmymouthandIsuckandsuckandsuckandthenhesaystimeto FUCKYOUHARDOYESFUCKFUCKFUCKME!!!!!!!!!!!! wHY SHOULD i BE ASHAMED OF THAT? I shouldn't be

I am used to having no readers for my blog, so imagine how I felt the other day when I saw the other day that 18 people checked out one of my entries. It was the 12/26 entry entitled 'Queer' and I was stunned. 3 had been the biggest showing thus far, and that was months ago. Why did I get such a huge response? I'm guessing it was the tile: someone it must have gotten in a search engine, and with millions of homos out there, 18 came to my site, but I fear they left disappointed. It was only a brief, somewhat depressing paragraph, followed by a brief, even more depressing poem, which I think may form the basis for a somewhat longer, even more depressing song. The results make me ponder whether I should put queer into the titles of all my blog posts, since 18 was so much more than the usual zero. I wish the readers had taken time to read what else I offered, but, alas no, no other entry was looked at. Too bad, because some of them might have liked it, especially since I wri

I am unaware of anything in my neighborhood that I would describs as awesome. It's a grim urban environment, but I like it, though I hesitate to call anything awesome in that area. I reserve that word for truly majestic parts of nature, so I would hesitate to call anything in Minnesota awesome. There are no mighty mountains, and the Mississippi doesn't truly become awesome for another 1000 miles or more. At best, Minnesota has many fabulous aspects; fabulous is pretty damn good, I think. Fabulous sounds kind of gay but I don't care. It's time I got over such minor hangups. Still, I never want to overuse a word like awesome, since the word is meant to describe sights that take one's breath away, not what someone ate or their favorite TV show. I don't mind not living in an area that's not awesome at all, because it's very comforting to be merely fabulous. For example, volcanoes are only found in majestic mountains, which are the epitome of awesome, and i

Today, an app where I had over $29,000 in winnings for PayPal totally wiped out every single penny that I had won. The email they had left to contact them at turned out to be phony. Therefore, I think Google should have to pay me, since the company enables this outright fraud. Tomorrow I intend to find a lawyer to take them on. Their disclaimer that they are not responsible for the conduct of these apps, I believe, is as phony as all of those apps are.

I am queer and I want to love someone more than I hate myself. Homelessness doesn't help the situation any, and no one wants anything to do with me, aside from idle chatter and maybe throwing me a few dollars from time to time. It's been months since I spent more than an hour with another human being. This post started as insane erotica, but I edited all that out for this pathetic lament. Was that a wise choice? What else can I say to fool myself?/ There must be something I can say/ to make me want to live/ to make me want to care/ to make me think/ that I still have a chance

I remember Jesus well. Always talking about peace and love. To modern ears, it sounds very nice, but back then I would just shake my head and tell him, "Ya gotta lay off that peace and love shit, dude. You're gonna piss off the bigwigs because hate and war is where they get their riches. Peace and love ain't worth a dime." As we all know, he didn't listen to me, and sure enough, he got his ass crucified. People paid him lip service over the next couple of millenia, but nothing really changed: war and hate still ruled the world, and the banks were filled with great treasures from all the blood that was shed. The billions spent on armaments tells me that nothing has changed, except the fact that Jesus and his words of love became another reason to kill.

I awoke the next day to a knock on the door. Whoever it was, I didn't care. "Enter," I shouted. It was Guido. "I wake you," he said, looking sad about his intrusion. "Forget about it," I told him. "I should get up anyway." I didn't move a muscle, though, other than my mouth; if I didn't have to get up, I could think of no reason why I should. I wasn't so lucky, though. "The doctor wants to see you," Guido said. I stretched as I sat up. "How wonderful," I said, then I yawned. "Tell him to hurry." Guido looked confused, then he chuckled. "No, no, no, it is you who will hurry," he said, so I stood up. I slept with my clothes on last night, so I just had to put my shoes on, and we were off. We went to the same office where I saw the doctor a few days ago, and Guido told me to go in. "The doctor will be here soon." I thanked Guido and smiled, and I watched him walk away, adm