What the Fuck is My Problem
Ok, for starters I am almost always never on time. I am lazy. I am a narcissist. I love to fuck. Maybe I am a sex addict. Married life was great. We fucked constantly. We worked all through the week, fucked nights weekends and sometimes went camping, where we fucked in sleeping bags and on the sides of mountains.
I can't seem to start relationships. I don't date. This was ok since I've been married all my fucking life, I have no clue of what social intercourse means anymore. I have stepped on or lost the thread of any good relationship that I could have ever started. I have no clue how to read the signs of a woman's interest. I am so bad that once I almost poked some chick's eye out doing a magic trick at a restaurant.
I don't trust anyone. The fact that I am a head of a company only means that I trust that I won't fire myself from the job. Little else. I didn't trust the people I worked with when I was at corporate - and rightly so. I don't trust the people at the bank. I barely trust my best friend - he's a right wing nutjob.
My political writing is little more than turning a phrase to be provocative - a constant dwelling on issues that I alone am interested in. I could care less if someone else is interested in them - I want something from society and I am playing a game to get it.
I'm wrapped too tight for the human race. I don't drink. I don't smoke. The kink levels I'm into push me outside of the vanilla lifestyle but I have no one to explore them with. And I may be a triathlete. But I'm a lousy fucking runner. I'm slow as hell. I can easily run six hour marathons.
My career is spinning out into the ditch like a car across an icy road on a New Mexico cliffside. My kids are completely messed up, emotionally - and I am so distant and self absorbed that I am more their roommate than a single dad. Our house is a mess. Our finances are a mess. My desk is uncomfortable and I don't like writing here.
And the kind of food that I have been feeding the kids especially this past week could be viewed by some courts of law as child endangerment. I regularly visit restaurants whose mascots include garishly painted clowns, royalty with their heads on one size too big, or those that cannot safely describe any or all of their meat by products without producing a finely printed page of strange symbols and nutritional information - which, upon reading - usually tells me that I've just eaten over 400% of the USRDA recommended sodium intake for a mammal the size of a beached whale.
My life is a porn addicted death spiral into nothingness, punctuated by massive doses of boredom and sloth. My greatest accomplishments aren't worth the ink that would have been printed up to report them. Not even if you refill the cartridges at office max.
I am alone.