Sometimes there is just a swear. The rain did not speak. The clouds have no thoughts on the matter. Even the zen master was silent, though of course she always is. Just that unsteady feeling like I am bad, wrong, just for existing. Yes, I am that fucking cunt, the one you blame for everything that is wrong in your life. You tell me “shut up bitch, you fucking whore.” You grab a gun from the stack in your basement. You make no idle threats. You grab my pussy even when I say no. It is my fault. Your rights as a man can never be overridden. This is the law of your god. The god of men and their unsatisfied manhoods. It’s the bitches, it’s the lesbos, it’s the feminazis that make your fucking dick limp. Never your fault, never you, always the bitch cunt whore of your dreams.