Drax is Back

Alright readers, the requests weren't overwhelming but it was enough to motivate me. Like I said before, let's just get everything out in the open. So if you recall, not long ago I did get in touch with Sarah with the intention of telling her some of the things that had been on my mind about the two of us. She responded about how I imagined she would, and it was for the best. Then she finally got around to reading my blog, which for the record I didn't keep secret from her. The result was shitty, but also what I expected. If you can't remember all that was said, then I suggest going back a few posts and review.

After the angry e-mail she sent me about the content of my blog, the one I posted for everyone to read like the horrid dick bag that I am, I decided not to respond to her. I figured it would only make her feel worse. Normally people's feelings can go fuck themselves, but as you know, I have a soft spot for Sarah. Still I posted her personal e-mail to me, like a dick bag, but it was only fair. When I didn't respond, she checked my blog again, and sent me this:

"Dear Andrew,
I hope you read this….After not hearing back from you after my last
email I figured you'd posted something on your blog. I am pretty
bummed that you feel you should share all your thoughts with the rest
of the world and not with me, but that's your choice. I can respect
that.

I did want to say just one more thing…you said in your blog that you
would have given it all up for me. Guess what, you didn't. And you
didn't change for me. You didn't clean up for me or give up your
comfort zone…..and you shouldn't have to. You're absolutely right
about that. Two people that are right for each other shouldn't have to
change each other. You're correct when you say people should love you
for your furious miserable bastard self….and no other reason. Who
knows, if circumstances were different, maybe I would have. I'm not
necessarily against those qualities in a person because I know that
can't describe someone completely, but I didn't get that chance….How
can I possibly know you fully if you hide things from me? How can you
expect me to accept you and appreciate you if you aren't giving me all
of you?

You denied me the one thing I asked of you, the one thing I ask of
everyone….honesty. From day 1 that's all I wanted….I wanted to know
you…ALL of you. I guess I didn't deserve that much. Sorry I do have
some "standards" I guess you could call them, but I'm not willing to
sacrifice what I believe or change who I am for anyone either. It
works both ways.

Please stop hating me for standing up for what is important to me and
vocalizing my opinions on the self destructive behavior of a person I
care/d about. I may have said some very harsh things in that last
email and for that I'm sorry, but you really left me no choice.

Take good care of yourself.

Hardly worth idealizing,
~Sarah

p.s. I thought of one more thing actually…you seem to neglect the fact
that I was crushed after leaving CO too….I idealized you too….and when
you said "don't' wait for me," I took that as a hint. My heart sank
that day, but I respected your decision and went with it. Enter
Bobby.

I am what I am too….and if you can't accept me or respect me for who I
am, then I have no room in my life for you either. You've hurt me
enough."

After reading this one might expect me to have one of my classic HOW FUCKING ANGRY AM I? moments, but it wasn't the case. Instead I had a how fucking dead am I inside? moment, and the answer, apparently, is fairly dead.

I still didn't plan on responding. I figured she could say whatever the fuck she wanted to me, and it wouldn't matter, and to be honest it still really doesn't matter. Life went on as usual for me the next couple of days.

It probably won't surprise you that this docile state I was in didn't last. After going back and interacting with people my anger flared up again, and all I could think about was how I wanted to drown the world and eat the universe. Though instead of eating the universe with my mouth, like say Galatus from Marvel comics, I'd feed it to my penis. Though you should know by the time my anger allows me to attain such a transcendent form that I might actually eat the universe, my penis would probably resemble one of those giant ass sand worms from Dune, only less gay. And probably bigger since it would have to eat the universe, but that's all speculation.

Anyway before I go and get all distracted again, my point is that I fucking hated everyone as usual, and the one person I thought might understand me was fucking pissed at me too. After a couple of days I decided her response simply would not stand. Like I said before, just because I like you, doesn't mean you're safe from me. Still, I was tactful, at least I think, in my response. Really readers, you should be proud of me. Here's what I said in response:

"Well now, where to begin.

I felt the need to post our business online because this is how I'm choosing to channel my frustrations. As you know, I dropped out of school in order to take my writing seriously, and the blog is just one of the projects I have been working on. Sure, the things I've been describing for all the world to see are really none of their business, but people are actually paying attention to what I have to say. People I don't know are actually reading what I've been writing, and liking it, believe it or not.That is something that makes me happy. I feel like I'm making progress for the first time in a very long time.

Now for the really unpleasant stuff. Honestly, I didn't intend on responding to your e-mail because I didn't think you'd really care about what I had to say. It sounded like your mind was already made up. After your second e-mail I thought about it for a few days until I decided that I should probably say something.

To begin with, I've realized that you weren't the person I thought you were either. Though unlike you, I wasn't angry, hurt, or even upset at all really. I felt like I should have been, but I just wasn't. I've experienced a lot for my age, I feel anyway, lots more than I described on my blog, and in comparison, you being upset with me seemed like par for the course. It's something that I've just come to expect from people.

I obviously didn't expect a good response from you concerning the events I wrote about, but truth be told I also didn't expect the specific reaction I got from you. I feel like you didn't read what I wrote very closely at all, and fixated on the most irrelevant parts. Just to make sure I wasn't being crazy for thinking this, I of course consulted my closest friends, knowing me best after all, though even they were shocked at some of the things I said, agreed with me about that. I realize that isn't exactly fair to you, but I feel it's important that I'm not alone in having that opinion.

In regards to the parts where I'm treacherous, deceitful, and unaccepting of you and your opinions...well I feel like most of that isn't true. Granted, I admit to lying to you. I wish that I would have been strong enough to tell you how much I cared about back when you left. But I wasn't, so I convinced myself that by not making an effort to be with you was the right choice. So yes Sarah, in that way I did lie to you, and I'm sorry. It causes me pain every day, and that will be mine to live with. As for the rest of the things I wrote about I don't see how that's relevant. If I chose to omit things that I was going through during the few times we communicated that's because it wasn't any of your business. You have a boyfriend, so what I choose to do with my time is my business and not yours. Now as far as me not giving you all of me, I feel I explained that poorly. The person you knew when you were out here was me. It was an honest me, and a true me. This other side isn't the dominant side. It's slowly becoming more dominant as my frustrations grow, but in my mind that would have been something that the two of us would have come to in time. That and you must realize that something like this is so subconscious to me that it's hard to vocalize to others. In fact you can't really vocalize it, it just happens and others observe it. If that makes any sense. In short, I wasn't lying to you while you were here. The me you saw then would have been the me you would always see. In fact, you encouraged the better side of me to remain dominant, and I truly did feel like a better person while you were here.

Now another reason for my decision to tell you not to wait for me was because I knew that I was incapable of being your boyfriend in another state. Just the thought of being so far away from someone you've invested so much in emotionally is a terrible idea as far as I'm concerned. I mean you must understand that at least a little being away from Bobby so much, especially since I do recall you telling me that you love him. I'm just not sure I can convince myself that you can love someone in the way you think you do, if you hardly ever see them and interact with them. In my opinion your concept of love is very traditional, and in the life experience I have been granted I have a hard time finding examples where those traditional methods pay off. You can hate me for saying that, but that's how I feel. Just the thought of me making some terrible mistake with you away was too much for me to bear. If I was going to change the way I interacted with women before you came along, I would have needed you close to me, since it wouldn't be an over night transition. Remember the last time we spoke on the phone, after you broke up with Bobby the last time? I told you that had circumstances been different at the time, I might have followed you back to Florida. That was true. If the circumstances I have now where in place when we parted ways then things probably would have been different. It just didn't work out that way. So for you to say how crushed you would have been to "give up your happiness" to be with me only for me to dump all this nonsense on you is not how it would have been. If we had stayed together then those things i wrote about never would have happened. If say I had convinced you to move out here for me, which I would never have done because I know how important you work is to you, if anyone would have moved it would have been me for you, I can write anywhere, but if I had convinced you then i would have ceased my activities to focus on you. So I don't feel like it's fair for you to say that. As I've said everything I've done while you were away has been my business, not yours. As long as your dating Bobby and living so far away from me that's how it will be. You can disapprove of the things i do, but I don't see how you can be angry with me in the sense I just mentioned. I would have done better for you.

So when you make claims that I was never honest with you, not only do I think that isn't fair, but it almost makes me want to have nothing to do with you. Because that wasn't how it was. Oh and if I'm truly upset with anything you've said it's in regards to the comments about how I hate you for thinking the way you do, and that I won't try and understand. That is definitely not the case. I never made any claims in what I wrote to imply that. Not only do I accept you for who you are, I love you for who you are, even if it isn't exactly what I thought it was. If I did anything in that stupid fucking blog it was telling the world how awesome I thought you were and how disappointed I was in myself for not doing a better job, and for not being a stronger person to give you what you needed, and how upset my decisions were making me. I can handle you being appalled by me. You can hate me if that makes you feel better. That's what everyone else does. But for you to say that I don't care about you is absolutely fucking stupid and does nothing but infuriate me. If you actually still care about me like you said you did then I'd hope you'd try harder to understand what I've been saying as opposed to making rash and angry decisions. Though, I don't blame for that. Anyone would have reacted that way, and as far as poor reactions go yours still could have been much worse.

I really don't know what else to say. If you don't want to respond to this I'll understand of course, though I have the feeling you now officially hate me and probably have something venomous to say in response. If that's the case then fine. I understand. I'll just absorb it like I do with everything else.

Love
Andrew"

Can you people believe all that whiny ass faggot shit came out of my mouth? Kinda makes me want to vomit, as I sit here reflecting on it. Or at least hate fuck my pillow to thoughts of raping small children and murdering various woodland creatures one might find in Disney cartoons. Still, I'll remind you that I'm not ashamed, and I'm sure as fuck not sorry. I'm certainly not thrilled with everything, but that's just how it worked out. To be honest I did feel a lot better after sending that e-mail. I said what I thought needed to said, and as far as i was concerned, our interactions had come to a close. Then a few days later, I get this:

"Andrew,
Thank you for your last email. I saw the honest and warm-hearted man
I remembered in it; even among your obvious frustration with me and my
biased perspective on this whole situation. You should realize that I
think you're absolutely correct about many things you mentioned, but
I'm too impulsive with my anger and (hate to admit it) my jealousy to
react appropriately sometimes. I've always been incredibly passionate
about everything in my life that is important to me – my work, my
music (I write too, bet ya didn't know that), friends, family,
relationships….but this time I think I let it go too far. I managed
to hurt someone I cared about and for that I'm sorry. You're probably
the last person with whom I'd ever imagine fighting, but when I read
your words…yes those vulgar descriptions so eloquently detailed…..I
felt my heart sink again. The same sinking I felt when I left CO had
returned. My 'fight or flight' response to stress kicked in….guess
which one I chose. It's the ninja in me….what can I say? Although a
true ninja would have been much stealthier in her attack…..sorry….I
digress….
I've kept you on this imaginary pedestal since I left your
world…blinded by what I wanted to see in you. In my head, I treated
you more like an unattainable deity than a human that makes mistakes
and feels the same emotions, desires, pressures and temptations that I
do. Having that moment of realization that crushed my image of you
was difficult for me. The deity I conjured in my head transformed
into a tarnished figure of someone I didn't recognize. I freaked out.
I guess that proves I'm human too. In any case, I DID notice the
compliments and kind words in your blog. That doesn't change the fact
that I felt betrayed or lied to or something. I was hurt. Probably a
lot more than you realize. I'm sorry if you are also appalled by me
because of how I reacted, but its pretty obvious that 3 weeks and a
handful of emails can't unveil anyone completely. Truth is, I still
don't feel like I know you and I'm fairly certain that you don't know
me completely either. Hell, I'm not even sure you'd like me if you
did get to know me well. I'm afraid there's still more Sarah Funck
that could be unveiled to you.
What I do know is that I am happy with my life and with Bobby.
Whether you choose to accept it or not, he does know me and from what
I can tell, loves every part of me….even the impulsive passionate
tree-hugging feminist psycho-hosebeast part. Perhaps you don't agree
with my definition of "love," but its up to me to decide what makes me
happy. You're correct in saying the distance is hard and difficult to
build a relationship on, but I'm giving it my best shot with him.
I've known Bobby for years now and he continues to amaze me every
moment he's in my life. Trust me, I've dated my fair share of
sweethearts, toolbags, and disappointments in the past and I pride
myself in knowing when I snagged a good one. The trick is holding onto
them. Sometimes I'm shocked it took me this long to realize how
wonderful he is. I'm so sure….that we're moving in together this
summer when I return from Africa. Who knows….it could bring us closer
together, it could tear us apart. I have no idea, but high hopes.
I'm excited for the chance at least.
I'm not sure how to end this email – I'm still upset and I'm sure you
are too. It might be best if we ended it here and let our worlds
diverge. Good luck with your writing; I'm afraid I've OD'd and have
to steer clear of it for awhile….maybe I'll stab myself in the heart
with pure adrenaline, shake off the pain and check in to rehab. Ha.

If our paths ever cross again, you can bet I'll greet you with a
smile. I promise not to attack you with a venomous embrace (though I
did enjoy your implied viper metaphor). I'll be anxious to see what
comes from your end. Thanks for calling me out on everything
too…sometimes you need to a little help to come to grips with your
faults and appreciate the fact that its ok to mess up.

Until then,
Sarah"

Hosebeast? Seriously?

Fucking Christ readers, what a big fucking cluster fuck of bullshit this has been, almost a year since I met this girl. Maybe after reading these e-mails you'll have a better understanding of what I liked so much about this girl. Maybe you won't. Fuck you anyway, because it really doesn't matter. I took this as a personal victory for myself, and it's marked a new stage in my life.

I've spent too long trying not to be Drax the Destroyer, and I've wasted more energy than I could spare telling the God of Fuck to settle the fuck down. I'm done trying to be good. It's all fucking bullshit. Being good is a fucking waste of time, and if you retards disagree then by all means why don't you start you're own fucking blog and bore everyone to death with how uninteresting your life is. Go ahead, entertain me with a story about how eventful you're life is losers!

"Oh today I woke up from a good night's sleep, went to work on time, and was polite to everyone! Fuck me in my stupid boring face!" Do that long enough and in a few decades we'll find you dangling from the rafters. Fuck you.

Now before all you pansies go and get all butt hurt about how mean I am to you, here's the point I'm trying to make about myself and everyone else.

I don't want to be good. I don't want to be bad either. I want to BE.

People have asked me several times why I've spent so much time hanging out in the gutters and dredges. They ask me why I find the company of drug addicts, theives, prostitutes, and skuzy rockers so comforting. To be frank, that's where I feel safe. When I was down in the heroin den with Halo, watching him inject his life away, watching my own life guzzle down the drain, I still felt safe. There are no expectations in my world, at least not the kinds there are for everyone else.

By now you may be calling bullshit on me and that's fair. I realize I do expect a lot from people. All I really want, is to not be surrounded by lies. Down in the gutter people just expect you to be. That's it. There just isn't enough room for fabrication.

I'm so fucking sick of everyone living up to these imaginary expectations that just aren't practical anymore. God forbid someone show up to work wearing the wrong colored pants, or not shining their shoes. Jesus will certainly cry if you don't cover up you're nose ring from everyone's delicate sensibilities, or not wash your hands before scooping a glob of potato salad for some fat piece of shit. Think of all those mortified parents, bawling their eyes out as they stroked each other off to thoughts of a conventional family because their kids decided college was a waste of time. Always be polite, get a real job, make money, contribute something, do as you're told and keep your opinions to yourself...well fuck you, fuck you, FUCK YOU.

Expectations and moral fiber are ruining the world.

Most importantly, don't ever say what's really on your mind, because that might hurt someone's feelings. Fuck your feelings. The world will never unmake itself. Only people can do that.

Stop wanting, stop expecting, stop caring about the things that were never important. We were raised by liers, and now we work for them. It's only a matter of time before we become everything we've wasted our youths rebelling against. I plan on doing everything I can to make sure that doesn't happen.

No matter how much I might want to be plain old Mandrew at times, I will always be Drax the Destroyer.

I'm not ashamed. I'm not embarrassed. I'm not sorry. I AM.

Out of Hiding

About a month ago I had a conversation with a good friend of mine about some of the interesting things I tend to get into. At some point in the conversation he made a comment to me regarding my recent honesty program, where I share my adventures and misgivings with whoever cares to read them. He basically told me that I shouldn’t post about my sexual experiences online. I responded by staring at him, dumbfounded for a few moments, before pounding my double whiskey drink, leaving the table to get another one, pounding that one as well, then by returning to the table to shake my finger at him rigorously.

“What the fuck are you babbling about?” I said.
“It’s just that stuff is none of their business,” he replied.
“And who is ‘they’ exactly?” I sneered at him. I already knew the answer.
“You know, whoever is reading this blog nonsense.”
“Because blogging is for faggots?” He chuckles at me as though I weren’t being a sarcastic prick.
“Yes, blogging is for faggots.” He really does think I’m a faggot for blogging. It doesn’t bother me. I recall that he’s a good friend. Then I recall that I’m asshole, and being my friend does not always grant you immunity from my wrath. Instead of saying anything I simply conjure an image of him ranting about the sanctimony of the real punk rock community, and how he’s rejecting technology because he hates the image it creates, because that image sullies what it truly means to be an anarchist, thus weakening the message of the music.

About five minutes after he says this he asks me if he can borrow my cell phone to check in with his girlfriend. He promised he come home early.
Good one.

With this in mind, I simply smile back at him.
“Regardless,” I begin, “I can say whatever the fuck I want.” He tries to say something but I silence him with glaring disdain that’s usually smeared across my face. I pause, and pound my drink. “I can say whatever the fuck I want. So if it makes you uncomfortable, then don’t fucking read it.”

I wasn’t really mad at him, because as I said, he is my very good friend. If you’ve learned anything about me from reading my past posts it’s that I’m a miserable bastard and I hate just about everyone. I do, however, greatly value the people that I don’t hate. These people are my friends. These are the people that love me for the miserable bastard that I am.

Thus, I do my best to ignore it when my friends say stupid fucking retarded shit. Still, I did reflect on his comments. I’m sure you’ve all noticed that I haven’t posted in a while. This has been for a reason. I’m sure it’s not hard to imagine that I’ve burned a lot of bridges in the past few months.

But you know what? I’m not fucking sorry, and I don’t fucking care. I’m not really sorry for anything that I’ve done. I may not always feel great about my choices, but they’re my fucking choices, so fuck you if feel otherwise.

Not long after my last post concerning Sarah’s response to my blog, I had a few more exchanges with her and we have finally reached a true state of closure. Readers, if this interests you, I will gladly post the last few e-mails I exchanged with her for your reading enjoyment. Please request them in your comments, otherwise I will simply move on to other topics.

My friend was right in saying that the things I do in my time are none of your god damn business. But fuck that really. Fuck him for saying it to me, and fuck you, if for a second you agreed with it, because that was never the point I was trying to make. If I can offer anyone anything as a writer, it will come from my own experiences directly. I’m not embarrassed, ashamed, and again, I’m not fucking sorry. Keeping these things secret isn’t going to do anyone any good. So maybe I’m sorry if my stories have reflected poorly on some people. But really it’s more that I’m sorry everyone is such a fucking crybaby asshole. You’re not always going to look and be perfect, so fuck you. Let’s get everything out in the open, then maybe people won’t get so fucking upset over nothing. Though, I’m hardly one to talk about not getting upset. Sometimes my anger is all I have.

I’m choosing to make my business public, because this is what I want to do. I want to write, and share the things that I learn with others, and hope they will do the same with me. I have burned a lot of bridges, but it doesn’t matter. The people who have stuck by me through the past few months are the only people that matter.

There is a fine line between fiction and reality. Often enough one will find that they are one and the same.

So let me apologize for taking so long to get back in business. The air up here is cool again, and I intend to get right back into pissing everyone off. Just because I haven’t written anything in a while doesn’t mean that nothing has been happening. So please stay tuned. I promise to post something funny very soon.

There’s also a strong chance it’s about my penis.