I would like to give thanks to all of my haters, those of you with no direct or indirect involvement. It is you who give my work purpose. Your brazen disdain is the fruit of my labor. I endeavor so that your mimicries spout with such little effort, like a mime with premature ejaculation.
My mind has been sweaty lately; damp as the follicles near which it resides. Sure, the wisps continue to recede, much like virtue in the wider world. But such moisture budded a thought, perverse as it may be. Your hate, your mockery, even your mildest rebuke, these are all sources of joy to so many who suffer. And despite the pain it may necessarily inflict upon me, there is solace in the notion that though I may frown, it is precisely that which is the source of joy for many on this spiraling rock.
Lord, do I wish my actions leading to smiles could have happened under basically any other circumstances, painless and true. Yet, I’ve resigned myself to the idea that I must keep going, keep writing erotic novels, if for no other reason than for people to laugh AT me. For that is the secret to how I become… the most sarcastic person… IN THE WORLD!
(Echoes of, “world, world, world, world,” extend beyond the empty-ish bedroom, into the the neighborhood, then the city, then the state and the country, then the planet and the solar system, until the proclamation arrives at the hearing organ of the most sarcastic being in the galaxy. He scoffs. “Yeah. You definitely ARE the most sarcastic person in the world. Ha. Ha. Ha.” Then he zips off in his erotic spaceship.)
But seriously, allow me to show my appreciation to the un-explicit actors in this tragic farce. It is you who are the heroes of my story. And so, I give thanks to all those who me.
Source: TurquoiseMemoPad2_HolidayHijinksSeriousThoughts