Another Word

So we are taught a load of shit about what is important in life. 

And we live by it. 

I told her, you touch the fucker and I will shot you dead. 

And she did it. She went and fucking did it. 

And I had to be good to my word. because you have to be good to your word, right? 

Anybody who fails at that is fucked, right? 

I look around and I see a culture made of everybody who at some time or another had failed at being good to their word. Probably through no fault of their own. Or probably because humans are bitch scum who no longer give a fuck about their word. 

Words come out of our mouths and we all know we are tv programmed, brainwashed dummies who will say anything for kicks or to get ahead. Its expected, we lie and that is normal. People who are good to their word, man they are fucking aliens, they are creeps, those are the ones you do not want to trust, they won''t like everybody else, they are dangerous, playing by some other rules, right? 

We get away with shit by lying and that’s what gets us ahead, and nobody expects any different any more, right? This is normal life and to thrive we have to fit in. We are the culture of who gives a fuck and say whatever. 

And that’s okay, that's all good to be expected. 

So we do what we do and nobody judges because to judge is to fail, drop your issues at the door or be exposed as a control freak. Nobody wants to be controlled so its a worse faux-pas than saying whatever you have to just to get through. And this is all anyone expects of us, we learn that from birth and we accept human nature for what it is. The ones who don;t are nuts crazy fuckers who don’t fit in to the normal world of normal people anyway. 

Long gone are the days, so many generations ago that its a myth anyone ever used to be decent and honest and society was straight. The sooner you wake up kid, the better you will be. We have to adapt to survive and this world based on fake comes crashing down for all of us if you don;t, so we have to, it’s the social obligation. And that is why you do not fit in. That is why your superiority complex based on honourability is epic fail central. 

That is why nobody loves you. 

And that's the way it is. 

Because if it were any other way, if we were true to the words we say and the stupid foolish games we play; if it were true - then I would have to shoot her dead. And she is my best friend and she disregarded what I said, she did him anyway and hurt my heart's desire. 

So we need the world of dishonorable action, and that works two ways. If we were true to what we say we would have to go through with it, she would be dead with a bullet in her head and I would be involved in shit I don't want to go into.

I forgive them both and I make his cock taste of my juices to give her something to suckle on next time to prove my innocence the only way I can, by being true the only way I can, I can't kill her but I can drink him down which is what I wanted in the first place. Letting her know is my only way of revenge for putting me in this position of having to choose, between being good to my word or letting it all go. 

Forgiving in the name of compassion. 

It is the lesser crime.

My alternate, parallel universe self, is clutching a smoking gun and watching her bleed from a small bullet sized cranial wound. I am licking the juice, tonguing her flesh and thinking about alternate ways it could have ended were I less true, deciding too late that lying is a necessary fact of life and not as evil as people believe. I believe, sincerely, that writing about this is necessary and to be advised, to explore taboo and these things which mean so much to us, which make us tick. 

I am asking him for help having slain his lover in cold blood and replaced her. And it is a love test, the control and the passion, the fragile human heart destroyed in an instant. He don't know what to do and it is up to me to pressure him through, getting him to see the error of his ways and how forgiving i am, how that is real love, to remove the problem, to get her out of the way, to bury her in a shallow grave to prove to my man that he is mine. 

For sure i went away and he was lonely and she was strong. But what they had was temporary and what we have is real. Real enough to stand against the world as real human beings, a woman standing by her man, making decisions for the both of us about how life is. 

 We plant roses on her so her spirit may grow and scented perfume to remind us, the simple poetry a cliche for a reason. And he, he loves me. He sees the same way as i do, that at once it is twisted but necessary, that it is the purity we need, a bittersweet and twisted purity bringing us together in ways most people do not ever share, and in this we are perfect couple, bound by romance dark and deadly as befits our species nature. 

Except... all that is a dream. 

I let her keep him and walk away, marked out by his decision as a coward and a liar, for not being honest with my friend. And as a couple watching my heart break, they take me in. They rescue me. We drink together to liberate our souls and sleep together, a three. We all accept the perfect compromise because this way everybody is happy, everyone involved gets what they want, there is no murder, there is no envy, there is only love and friendship deeper than the general society can accept at this time in history, deeper and happier than outsiders need to know.