Thursday, February 16, 2012

LETTER 2 WHITNEY HOUSTON.

Ok... so like I really don't know who I'm writing this letter to... I have to write a letter. This is not a story, rather a letter written to someone... And not gay to someone like myself... If I got some shit to talk to my self I say it right there on the fucken street... like to my damn face... No pussyfooting around... No "reflecting" or "meditating" or "thinking". No man. I brawl. And I DON'T write myself letters. This can be a letter to Whitney Huston... Altohough I never really cared about you, or your life, or identified with you, or liked any of your songs... I bet you had some wild times. Fuck shit up there in heaven... I'll throw some methadone into the Mississippi river for you.... I really don't know. Ok. Sorry you died. Let's move on to me. So I moved away from home Whit and like at first the idea was to take this big awesome bus and trick it out and get off the nut pills and be not a REAL PERSON... GOD I HATE THEM.... but like I don't know I know Bobby Brown probably had a song about something similar in the early 80's. I liked his songs better. Sorry he beat you. But can we seriously stick to me please?. This is really not about you. Honestly Maybe I should have not picked such a fucking DIVA to write a letter to cuz it keeps going back to WHITNEY, WHITNEY, WHITNEY, AND I WANT TO TALK ABOUT MY DAMN SELF... So I'm 31. I feel like I got a soul and shit I feel (especially recently) that I got more soul than most of these ugly fake zombie fucks walking the earth and maybe thats all I needed... ANY of those fucking retards who ever fucking said "duhhh OH YEA ALL CITIES ARE THE SAME... and was not sporting a shirt that said "If this place was an airport, assholes would be flying everywhere"... or something like that... haha... oh yea... "If assholes could fly this place would be an airport". That's fucking gospel man, and that's the only thing that unites all these fucken cities... a bunch of assholes and airports... they all suck... I was having serious stupid manic (yea i know poor fucking me) epiodes over and over in Chicago and I had to get out. I was also 31 and felt like I have never left yet and why the fuck not... I was "SLEEPING TOO MUCH" "UNMOTIVATED" "DEPRESSED" as opposed to I don't know seven years ago when I had a needle hanging out of my arm and some random 4 a.m. geriatriac cock in my vagina because I usually waited until the bar closed and went home with whatever parasitic slime slithered onto me... Then I'd get to their house and it would turn into every basketball star's worse nightmare... When a girl goes to your house to fuck you but OOPS realizes you're beyond a pockmarked vd machine on the way when they sober up but oh well, you made the trip, or they threw in a buck for the cab or bummed you a cigarette or bought you a drink so yea it would be easier just to wait and pray to (there has to be a saint for this) I guess lots of em were whores... whatever stupid drunk slut of a whore that this heavy mass of fat and sweat would start snoring before he rolled slowly on top of you and you took one for the team (your team, in order not to piss him off and make him crazy) and let him stick his chubby cheeto in your hoo ha and try to go to sleep before he did and depressed your lungs with his girth... well you get the picture... so anyways. years of that. and then i don't even want to discuss the ones that I thought were worthy enough so stick it in me more than once and all the broken bottles and made up shivs that caused. But HERE I AM BABY.... I'M COMIN OUT. I want the world to know, that I'm not yet a crack HO. Yet is important. I always liked meth better. But you gotta be gay and have the weiner and take it up the as to get it there.... Here or whereever else but Chicago.... It's a way of life that makes a girl have that special flair of the Pure Orange Leather Sac Maimi Beach tan... And the ribs that look like a dead cow that has been eaten by parasites for months and decayed... And we cannot forget that rat's nest thrift store roadkill toupee of some hair and the teeth that have been much too convientantly lost as to give the PERFECT blow job, even better than a geriatric, cuz at least they're awake... I know. I know. I'm gonna get some flack for that statement. But HAY I'm honest. and unbiased cuz I've never done either. (If ya believe that I've got a time share in Cabo to sell ya... no I don't really, nor do I know what that means, but I wish it were true). Ok, but this series of gay tangents keeping me up all night and I really don't want to go into the really super bad times before I get back (knock on wood) cuz I want to know that I made it. But I don't know what I did. I think I needed to do it, but it was fucking dumb. I just needed to see what all the hype was about. Like why people moved away. Umm... I'm starting to think that there is a bunch of stupid shit... Yea every city is the same in that THEY ALL FUCKING SUCK.... but some suck worse than others and they all have their special ways of sucking... Oakland is a fucking rats nest, wait I mean it's full of nutritional yeast, and dumb looking people and stupid looking fucking people that are the same shade of brown but are in fact white but like to say they are "of color" and run around and yell at people and pretend they're doing something important because they have eighteen garbage cans and like to yell at people and riot and spend a day in jail and cry about it. And then they like to act like they have a chip on their shoulder because their Dr. Bronner's ran out and complain about how everything there is so "ghetto" and the crime rates are so high but continue to OCCUPY the streets of Oakland and complain about gentrification. It is all very hard to believe that people like this exist. I mean exist and have brains and are functioning. I don't know. It's fucking all public gayness to the max. and then if you are lucky enough to encounter the "art stars" who apparently, according to many "jet set around the world pitching their shitty fucking art the made while anyone remotely worthwhile (which I can't even get into cuz there are so few of them, are making beautiful things, are not concieted enough to allow these minions blow smoke up their ass.... Point is... I did it. I moved. And now I'm in New Orleans. My self proclaimed favorite city in the world. And it still is (teetering with Reno and Las Vegas and Slab City and DisneyWORLD). I can't say much bad about this town and won't except there is an extremely ugly underbelly to it which involves a TON of people with facial tatoos they did when they were drunk and they all have these DEEP MEANINGS, but they look like they got food on their faces. STOP DOING THIS. SPEAKING AS A BEACON OF BEAUTY. THIS WILL NOT GET YOU THOSE JOBS AT CVS YOU'RE GUNNING FOR. No. I do like it here cuz people aren't scared to fuck up their faces but I did get told by a girl last night when I was joking about offing myself who yelled at me never to say those words again who had the ugliest facial shit I've ever seen which to me would be worse than offing oneself. I don't know what happened to her face but with a face like that I'd have offed myself years ago.... DRUNKENNESS IS NOT AN EXCUSE FOR THAT. maybe rape... but not being ugly or telling people not to kill themsleves. Keep Yo head up Whitney. I ALMOST cried the other day when I saw a car blasting I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU. AINT THAT SWEET???.

XOXO.
All the Best.
Meg.

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