this is a blog i never wanted to write. a blog that i never truly wanted to need to write. but, everything dies. everything runs its course. i was foolish to believe my friendship with Debbie Kirk was going to be one of those that defied any of these things. and i must say, she certainly blew it up in a way that reminded me of the old Debbie Kirk. so, let's get into the shit. Debbie got some news yesterday that i really don't know is true or not, but let's just go with the premise that it is. she was going to have to leave the room she was in by Monday because a social worker or hospital worker or whatever told the powers that be that Debbie is homeless. so, she wanted help. i offered a few ideas, which of course didn't satisfy her need. she then said she needed the rest of the money from Gofundme. i said i wouldn't be able to wire it from my bank until July 2nd. that didn't work for her either and then she got this narrative into her head that i was stealing from her. ask anyone that knows me. i am a pretty loyal motherfucker and i will swallow way more pride than i should at times. but, i don't fucking steal from my friends. she then continued down this road saying she was talking to a friend and they were going to get the sheriffs involved if i didn't send the money via Western Union and do it now. that's a little bit of a threat that i decided was the final bit of the bridge between us in beautiful fucking flames. so, i tried online and i couldn't get that to work. she bitched and moaned and kept up the bullshit about fraud now. i then got offline with her and said, i'm getting this shit done tonight and this is the end of this shit. so, when i got to the third fucking place i went to to try to get this done, it was the same fucking place i was 10 hours earlier, the grocery store. sure enough, i ran into a woman i went to high school with. damn Monica, you still look good. i told the guy how much i needed to wire and once he took my info and i found my ATM card, the money was sent. as i drove home, i had the taste of blood on my lips. the Irish temper was slowly rising to a fucking boil. i decided i was going to give her the information over the phone. i rarely call Debbie as those conversations turn into hours of someone fucking rambling about god knows what. plus, doing it over the phone, she never could accuse of me being a pussy about this. and it would devastate her even more. plus, i correctly figured it was the only call she had had all day long. i gave her the info she needed to get the money and then i dropped the bomb. you made the same mistake my father made. accuse me of a crime i didn't commit. you are officially fucking dead to me. i hung up and decided i could finally eat dinner, a dinner i wanted to eat about 75 minutes earlier. so, like the cunt this dead former friend truly is, she goes on Facebook and decides to write about the crimes i committed and how cancer brings clarity. (she didn't know that my mother has a Facebook account) what really made me laugh was i am somehow a 500 pound Christian shut in that writes like i'm Casanova. and her old crutch, i have no life experience. and she's right, i never have lived on the streets. i never have had to suck dick to get a meal. i never had to be a whore to have anyone love me. i never had an ex lover choose meth over me. i never ran with the cool kids so i could feel whole inside. sadly, i only have the experience of being sexually abused as a child. to first thinking about suicide when i was 8 years old. to realizing my parents never did anything when i gave them the news of my sexual abuse 9 years later. to nearly dying in a car accident. to nearly dying from blood clots. to having my stepfather die while i was holding his hands. having a best friend at the time go to Portland without me after we had planned our escape to the west coast our entire senior year of high school. no, no fucking life experience at all because any of my experiences couldn't fit Debbie's definitions of what a real bad ass does. the same bad ass that would cry herself to sleep each night because the world had fucked her over once again. and sure Debbie, you're the martyr, because god knows no one else had shitty parents. no one else on earth had been abused by them and foster parents and god knows who else. no one else had been raped repeatedly and got trapped in a cycle of abuse. no one else has ever abused drugs right. you're the fucking best at it. therefore, you deserve to be treated as such. and she can try to trick the world into thinking that she is a saint and is so heartbroken that our friendship is done. BULLSHIT. this was the conclusion she always wanted because she needs to be the victim. she needs to feel like everything is against her so when she pulls through on the other side, look at me. aren't you proud of me? no. i was proud when you were a functioning adult. i was proud when you were one of the best female poets i have ever known. i also loved how Nerve Cowboy would never publish you. so, now in my mind, it's how do i want to think of my dead former friend. and after sleeping on it, it's pretty simple. i don't want to. that cunt has been shit out of my mind, out of my soul, and is gone forever now. so in the end, thanks for the life experience. cancer will kill you, eventually. sadly, it will because you will allow it to. and i couldn't give two shits if you prove me wrong. try something novel and prove it to yourself for a change. mostly because, yourself is all you have left. i was the last fucking bridge you had left. it's amazing what the world looks like after the smoke clears.
music:
Distubed - The Sound of Silence
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - Push the Sky Away
Johnny Cash - Hurt
Nine Inch Nails - She's Gone Away
this blog will return to its normal programming later on this afternoon.
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