To be successful with women you have to be a good actor, merciless and cruel, or a good slave.

People always used to ask me to read their shit and tell them what I think. Everyone thinks they’re a writer because they post a stupid comment on YouTube, or leave their brain refuse instead of an actual book review on Amazon book reviews. In the early 90s I edited a a small press literary mag. I made the stupid mistake of advertising in Poets and Writers. The people who read that shit are fucking worms. They long to see their slimy words crawl along the page, while they imagine readers being fortified by their shit. A lot of PhD’s read that shit, constantly on the look out for some new fool to acknowledge their imagined greatness, never bothering to read the magazine they are submitting to. I published 4 issues and said fuck you all. I had one person actually purchase a copy first before sending me their pretentious, lifeless shit. Two years later I was still getting submissions from legions of assholes. I had thousands of manuscripts in boxes that I used to use as door stops, tables, horse saws, etc. At first I would answer some of these ass wipes why I didn’t like their scribblings only to get hurt and vengeful utterances in reply. It was a lesson I would apply in many ways. Most people only want to hear you acknowledge their specialness( yeah, I can say that all you fucking grammar police. It is comprehensible language and makes perfect sense to anyone who reads it, and I don’t feel like using uniqueness or some other word).

It’s a “hey, look at me and listen to what I have to say” world. Every kid who has learned to put his rants on paper thinks that he is being unique because of his ranting. It wouldn’t be so bad, except that most of the people who want their voices heard have the most impressionable minds. They unquestionably have accepted the latest drivel from their favorite tv or radio host, or other loudmouth celebrity, learning it like a parrot. Just read the comments left on any video on YouTube and you will realize that the human mind is a reciprocal of news entertainment shit, stupid, narrow minded prejudice and idiocy that the brain regurgitates as its own original thought.

It sickens me to go to some social function as a middle aged man and still be asked “when are you going to get married?” That isn’t a question, that’s a commandment. They don’t give a shit why. Don’t give a shit who you are, or what you want. No thought is given toward me whatsoever. It is not a question, it is a judgment, a statement. Fuck you. I used to feel sorry for people like that because their minds are so absorbed in their own egotistic, idiotic entity that they couldn’t possibly have lived a single moment of their lives. But when you see so many like them you get past the disillusion and simply say, “you know, I cannot waste any of my energy caring for you. I need to keep it all to myself just to keep from going insane.