over the top monologue

This is a game. This is an identity we are having. this is a fucking joke. these things you cannot say these things are okay to say this sort of thing is sticky complex layers of webbing spun together in the dark recess of history. Don't go there. Don't you fucking dare go there. When i was younger i masturbated by fucking the silky nylon of a sleeping bag. The first time i came i started peeing involuntarily right after. Can you pass the carrots? I fucked my best friend's girlfriend in high school. I did again in college, new best friend new girlfriend. I did it again after college. I have fantasies about kissing men i know. I wonder what it would be like. I have reoccurring dreams I can't get the waitress at five and ten in bed, it produces anxiety. Nearly every day I think I'm going to have a heart attack. I once stuck a carrot in my ass to itch a spot i just couldn't reach. When I was five I put on my mother's underwear, it was soft. Could you pass the peas? There have been times in my life when i have masturbated so much I've had scabs on the head of my dick. If I had siblings I would have had sex with them when we were children. I feel most embarrassed standing alone in the middle of a crowd. There is no line between this and that between fiction and truth and the truth is fiction and fiction is the truth and there is nothing you or i can do about it so shut the fuck up and pass the potatoes. Life isn't some fucking progression of lovely moments from one to the next its ugly, lots of it are just plain ugly to look at and you think the holocaust was horrible unthinkable where did it come from, it came from you my friend, it came from the little gestapo in your heart who want control control control and are really fucking pissed that they aren't getting it and goddamn it we're gonna make someone pay... Where did the holocaust come from? why did it happen? It happened because you wanted it to happen, i wanted it to happen, the people who died wanted it to happen, the whole fucking world wanted it to happen. And we all loved it. it was the greatest show in town, it was the absolute fucking hit of the century, it was so real some people can't even believe it happened. No one doubts Gilligan's Island everybody knows the skipper the millionaire the professor and mary anne... That shit happened, no one doubt that those fucks were stuck on that fucking island, but the holocaust? God. Are you sure? I mean are you fucking sure? Who let that one out of the bag, they couldn't have been that... no it couldn't have... let me see some proof... Somebody change the fucking channel.

Date: 2003-03-09 17:20:35 -0500
Topic: Dean's arrivial (used)

	"So he's coming down again?" Chloe is cleaning up the back of my neck with the clippers. Already i feel slightly cooler, but this is a feeling that will pass shortly. 
	"Seems that way."
	"Did he say when?"
	"No."
	"Huh. You know Sil, I still don't understand what you're doing here. And I understand even less why Dean is coming down again. You know I'm still trying to get out of here..."
	"Yes but you were born here. Everyone is trying to get out of where they were born. But to tell the truth, I'm not entirely sure why Dean is coming down." I consider mentioning the aquarium drinking, but decide against it since he and Chloe have had only the briefest of encounters in the past and it might, well, color her opinion of him some unsavory shade of disgust. "I think maybe he's coming to get out of the living situation he was in with his girlfriend and such, but knowing Dean there is probably a good deal more to it than that." Chloe is staring at my head in an distracted way that is unsettling. "What?"
	"Um, I think your ears are a little lopsided."
	"What?"
	"Well at first i thought i was messing up the back of your neck, but its clearly straight and yet when compared to your ears it still looks slightly lopsided, so I think maybe your ears aren't quite even." She smiles. "Sorry."
	"But the hairline on the neck looks okay?"
	"Oh yeah it's fine."
	"Well that's all I care about."
	"Okay. well then you're done." She switches off the clippers and brushes off my neck with an old t-shirt. I run my fingers over the remains eighth inch of hair on my scalp and come away with an unsettling mixture of sweat and hair clippings.
	"You might want to take a show before you go out."
	"Yeah I plan to."