I have absolutely no idea who the fuck you are

I Have Absolutely no Idea Who the Fuck You Are

When I was younger my family would gather around in the dining area and have dinner together. I remember that vividly. The usual meals I remember having was home made soup, then potatoes with fresh fish, and to finish it off tea with some sort of store bought cake. I remember I'd never eat the soup, unless I was sharing it with my father out of his super sized bowl. I remember it seemed to just taste better for some reason. I mean, obviously now I realize it wasn't actually any better, but at the time I truly believed otherwise.

When I was younger I felt like every first experience in my life would be epic. For instance when I finally learned how to ride a bicycle; a big boy bicycle, no training wheels. My father was there. He wasn't the one teaching me, but he was there. The first time I saw an opera in metropolitan and felt this magical feeling rush throughout my body. My father was there. He didn't buy me the ticket, but he was there. The first time I realized Winnie the Pooh wasn't real, I cried and hated my brother for it. My father was there for me. He drew my Winnie the Pooh bear on a huge newsprint paper and hung it in my room.The first time I felt a passion for something, my father jumped at me and tried to encourage me to do it.

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Fin. (except it's not)

It's Only The Day You Fell Out of Your Mommy's Uterus.

It's Only The Day You Fell Out of Your Mommy's Uterus.


It's my best friend's 20th birthday today. I'm really happy for him. He is an amazing man. I hope I can spend most of the day with him today. When I think about him, I can't help but have this smile that overtakes my face. He has done so many things for me. I don't think I could truly ever muster up the courage to express my gratitude to him. At least, not in a manner that is remotely equivalent in eloquence as I could hope to. Over the years he's done a lot for me. Shit! Over the past year he has done more for me than any other person I know. He was there for me, when I thought I was heartbroken. He was there for me when my mother was in the hospital. He was there for me when I wanted to go out and get food at 4 in fucking ante meridian. He was there for me when I got sick. He was there for me when I got too drunk. He was there for me when all I wanted to do was get drunk. He was there for me when I didn't have enough money for a pack of smokes. But, most of all, HE WAS THERE. I love him for that. This man came a long way, from that little boy who came to America; from Poland. He became a part of my life. It's been over 10 yrs since we met. I hope we make it another 50.

:)

Happy Birthday Alan. Make this one count. Focus on some digital, get things together with school, meet that significant other, finally bring some real meaning to your life. I wish you all the self worth and happiness your big, ugly, doofy, Polish heart can Desire. I LOVE YOU.

Fin.

This is the Future

This is the Future

Life is nothing short of a Casino.
It's all about chances, choices, thoughts, if's, and's, but's, and most importantly yes's.
It's about thinking of all the odds against you and still making the choice to take a chance.


If you want a magical experience go and bet every last dollar you own; in roulette on a number. One number.
No sleep for over 2 days.
Over 10 drinks of alcohol pumping through you.
Standing it a room well lit, with florescent, fuzzy white lights and no windows or clocks.
Your phone is dead.
You have no idea what time or even what day it is.
Time doesn't exist here.
Time doesn't exist here.
Times doesn't fucking exist here.
You have just put your entire life in the hands of a little white ball that is spinning around a wheel of randomly set numbers and colors.
Your heart is pounding.
Your hands are shaking.
Your mind is lost.
You can't fucking believe what you just did.
This is definitely the craziest thing you have done lately.
If you lose, you don't even know how you will get home.
You want a cigarette so bad, so bad, so FUCKING bad.
But, you need to wait...
You need to see how this all ends.
The odds of you winning are practically nonexistent.
You chuckle to yourself in disbelief of your dumb decision.
The wheel stops...
Your ears are ringing.
Everyone around you is yelling.
You can't drown anyone out anymore.
People are smiling.
You look...
You've won.
You now have thirty six times the amount you had about 30secs before.

You go to the smoker's lounge, you can't believe yourself.
A random black man with a shitty digital camera shows you a picture of a girl.
He asks you, 'what you think?'

You don't want to be rude, but you say, 'I'm fine. I don't need her for a good time.'

After all, who needs Jennifer Natalie Bop?
She's just a fucking 21 year old whore.
Just a whore with a 3 year old child.
She didn't finish high school.
You didn't believe her, when she said, 'My biggest regret is not finishing.'
You thought she was just another whore, as you watched her snort heroin.
You thought she was just another crackhead, when you saw her smoke from that glass cock.
When she said those scars on her face and stomach were from a car accident from when she was three, you didn't believe her.
You thought that black man, that pimp, that was the reason for those terrible facial mutations on her.
You couldn't believe she had 14 tattoos.
You couldn't believe the man you came to the Casino with, actually fucked her.
You couldn't believe he wasn't interested in talking to her.
You couldn't believe he couldn't care.
At least, not like how you cared.

But, why the fuck would you care about some young whore?


You got comped for a free room.
You got comped for free meals.
You got two thousand dollars in your pocket.

Just eat.
Just go to sleep.
Just go home.


In a casino, money never really belongs to you, until you leave.

In life, love doesn't really exist to you, until you leave.

You didn't eat.
You didn't sleep.
You have no money left.
You had to lose your car keys.
You had to lose a friend.
You had to lose yourself.

You have no idea how it happened.
But, it did.

Life is brilliant.

FUCK 2k9.

FUCK 2009.

FUCK THE NEW YEAR.

I can't help but love it.



What's the craziest thing you've done lately?

-I've lost friends, money, self-respect. I've lost myself, only to rebuild what I think about myself. I've met the most amazing girl in school; Alison. I've drank myself retarded. I've spent random nights at a friend's house and watched her seduce me. I've lied to my parents. I've cried in a bathtub. I've pictured myself getting the crap kicked out of me, by a man twice my age. I've gotten shy around a girl to the point where holding her hand was better than sex. I've had a girl kiss me on the lips, and make me smile for days. I've ignored a past lover. I've believed in fate. I've forged my father's signature. I've rudely spoken in a foreign language around people who don't understand it. I've laid outside in the snow, shirtless, staring at stars. I've finally met with a friend I haven't seen since he was institutionalized. I've watched a girl fall asleep in my arms and thought about marrying her. I've wanted to kill myself. I've wanted to understand how my parents are still together. I've thought about why they want to leave each other. I've imagined having a bird shit on me, for the shear reason; of a possible change of luck. I've loved New York. I've loved New Jersey. I hated them both. I have thought of past sexual conquests. I've wished. I've lost. I've won. I have lived more in the past 12 days, more livelier than the passed 19 years.

FIN.

O.C. (Remake)

O.C. (REMAKE)

The sun was shining...
Good Morning shuttle bus,
Where shall you be taking us?
Some place that I have never been.

It's cheap transportation,
To new destinations,
Where I leave my reflection on the glass...

In chilly sub depth railways,
In abandoned stairways,
Send me to the Crystal sands,
To untouched lands...

Under the Crystal sands,
I lay hand in hand,
With unpolluted dreams,
&& made up scenes.



FIN.

E.motions S.ometimes.Transend. E.verlasting R.omance

E.motions S.ometimes T.ranscend. E.verlasting R.omance

I laid there in your bedroom; on your folded-out futon, intertwined within your cotton sheets, smoking one of your Marlboro lights, staring at you. I stared at you dancing to The Gypsy Kings. You were so graceful.

Eyes shut.
Arms high.
Feet gliding across the carpet.
You looked like an angel.
Pacing around rhythmically from side to side.
Occasionally, completely out of the blue; you spun around.


You looked at me as the song came to a halt. You looked so content. You looked so satisfied. You looked beautiful. You slowly crept up to me, as the song started to change unknown artist. It was very calming music, filled with boundless enthusiasm. You cupped my face in between you palms and gently marked my forehead with you soft lips. Your hands felt so nice against my face, better than any cashmere.You told me you'd be back in a minute. You walked out of your room and into the bathroom. As soon as I put my cigarette out and the last cloud of smoke from my mouth was drawn out, and cleared from the doorway, I saw you again. I saw you walk back into the bedroom.


You turned on a very familure tune by Muse, and you went back to your post. You moved around with such amorous intention. This time around I noticed you open your eyes every so often when your face makes contact with the mirror; you took small glances at yourself. It was adorable, as though you were playing hide and seek with yourself.

You looked at me again with such an ardent expression, you gave me physical proposals to come up and join you in your libidinous, ballet-inspired thrusts. I wanted to decline, but you were very persistent, and I wanted you to keep up this smiling facade. The way you wear you smile, is even more entertaining than watching your hips flail around ,and seeing your shirt ride up and down your belly, hinting at beauty that lays underneath your clothes. The way you move around would make Shakira jealous.

I finally got up the courage to dance and you playfully laughed at me. You did wonders to my ego when you pressed you fingers on to my hips and controlled me. 'Just let go. Just close your eyes and move about the way you feel,' you whispered into my ear. You made me feel comfortable, doing the one thing I felt the least myself in doing. It was magical. I'm glad we spent the last day of 2008 together.

Fin.

First Day Last Apology/

First Day Last Apology/

Awkwardly awakening at 6:00 in the fucking evening. It's a new day of a new year. It's the first day of a new year. My mouth stained with the shots of vodka from the night before. Strangely enough, I don't think I had all that many. Not anywhere near a usual consumption. 'Hi my name is Rabbit and I'm an alcoholic,' I rehearsed in my head as I pictured a room full of recovering drunk bastards. The way that is most common in detecting alcoholism and the striving addiction for it, is by how much they used to consume and how much they do consume. Usually alcoholic's don't need to consume much to get completely shitfaced. I couldn't believe what happened last night, it seemed like a distant nightmare from a night of childish sleep. I have no real recollection of any substantial thing happening. But, I have scratches on hands and what looks like, or rather closely resembles hickeys, on my shoulders. I have no headache, I guess I slept right through the hangover. Strangely, I don't remember going to sleep all to late, to crave such large amounts of sleep. Maybe I wore myself out physically. It could've been that. No, yeah, I'm pretty sure that's it. I'm pretty sure the tiring effects was from screaming incohearent words of haterad, about my brother, for no real apparent reason. It must have been my apparent yearing for my brother to seize to exist, amd so I tried choking him out and proceeded to scratch his neck, pleaing for him to appologize to me. I remember the passion behind my request and actions. I remember that all too well. Yet, for the life of me, I don't remember why I wanted an apology, I don't remember what could've been worth me saying such messy, regretful, ugly, fucking words.

I am such a fucking asshole.
I am such a fucking asshole.
I am such a fucking asshole.

I know why I slept so long, I was ashamed of my actions and just want to sleep through the day and wake up in the late night, so I could ponder this strange emotion. I know I am going to regret saying these words, but, I actually sympathize with trailer park trash asshole, family wreckin' men. Those men that beat their family members as if they are his dolls to break apart. I sympathize with them, the morning after, when they wake up and only remember bits and pieces of the night. That awkward, decaying sense of a real human being the next morning. That's what I sympathize with. Note to self: Rabbit, should never again mix Vodka with Wine.

I'm Sorry.

Fin.