2002-03-08

I'm an asshole. I'm a damn, dirty, Jewish, horrible-sack-of-shit,son-of-a-bitching, jerk, vile, dispicable, rotten, damnable asshole. You see my gentle readers, as most of you know, my most recent ex, Jen-Jen, has found someone new to bestow her affections on. This is a good thing. Hell, this is a great thing. I even rather like the guy, and considering her last choice, that's a miraculous thing indeed. The main problem I have is that no matter how much I would like to admit otherwise, that mean old whore known as Jealousy is getting to me. I'm trying really fucking hard not to let it, but it's knawing at me pretty fiercely. Therefore, I am having a great amount of guilt and angst over the whole blasted thing. I'm falling into a pit of self-loathing, because I can't stop this little green monster from eating away my guts. Matthew Keepers (wp) today told me that he wouldn't be able to handle it, and that the monster would have escaped his grasp (not quite in those terms, but I'm usually rather horrible about remembering the specifics of any given conversation), but there are a few (pretty obvious to me) reasons why I can never let that happen. A:I've already stated that I like the guy, he's a nice fellow, and one of the more mature ones of that entire group. B: My petty feelings mean jack-fucking-shit in comparison to Jen's happiness. C:Generally jealous people become assholes even when they don't mean to be. There are other reasons, but we'd be here all night, and my stomach isn't up for that kind of challenge. I think that it would be best if I had as little contact with the two of them when I see them together as I possibly can. This serves sort of a two-fold purpose: 1)So that I don't get the damn opportunity to be an asshole to them, because as well as I know myself, I know it will happen. and 2)It will help me ease into accepting thier relationship with a minimum amount of hurt. Because make no mistake about it, it does hurt to know that she's in someone else's arms, and believe me, I feel a horrendous amount of guilt just over the fact that it does hurt. Jen for her part has been quite nice about the whole thing for her part, as she kept the cuddling and whatnot to a minumum in front of me, and made them all migrate to the back so that I would have to see it. Also I want to say in my defense that I am happy that she's found someone else, and I really, really want it to work out for them(If indeed there really is a "them" at this point, as I'm not really sure). At any rate, last night while I was trying to run from my emotions (at least while I was in public), I wrote the following poem-type thing. Be warned it's excessivly angry, one of the few angry poems I've written in a while. Bear in mind, no matter what is said in this poem, the only person I'm actually angry at is myself.

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These blood-stained
And whiskey soaked dreams
Are becoming too much of a habit
The cameo appearances
Have gotten so old that the idea
Itself is becoming antique
And I'm tired of my subconscious
Leading me to places I barely remember
Just to tease
My twenty-year homesickness
And right now
I want to take Carl Jung's body
Right out of his grave
And resurect him
So I can chop him into pieces
Just for giving us
The knowledge of Synchronicity
Which, right now
Seems to be after me with a shotgun
But I've got news for you
You miserable malevolent concept
Tonight I fight back
And even though the Police
Named thier best albumn after you
That's not going to stop me
From creating a form
Just for you
And then
Ripping it's damn head off

~Matt Magus

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