bill of resentment 

I was alone

in a room, and it was quiet and spacious,

and I felt happy. Heard this before? (I bet.)

Then I wasn’t alone and it was crowded

and loud and people were telling me

what to do and 

how I felt and that made me feel

limited, misinterpreted, angry, and judged;

and I had never even felt those fucking things.

They were imposedoneme / imposedonme :

‘friends’ and their unwanted ‘psychology;’

the ones

that don’t get it

in the slightest…

They just don’t stop. Are you kidding me?

And ironically, they think they are helping me.

The truth is: they need me,

just like a zombie. But I

must endure it,

the intention looks like purity.
We are now in the official Year of Detest.

Can I tell you something 

amazing

(that suddenly occurred to me) of the nature of

daily-life

(the other day)

that will make it

so you never have to (re)act ‘insane’(ly) again?

(you know what I mean, hahaa.)

…god i hate living in a social hierarchy…
Social media, that most wretched, is another

terrible, maniacal, hierarchy : fleshed out

someway, socially, on and on

forever: Purposefully…

Villainously, and heinously,

lacking as always in–what do you think?

Empathy.
The INTERNET is faceless: feeds off of energy.

But not aura energy, of organic bodies.

It is a dispassionate stream-being.

Even your Mother will hate you in there.

In the spindles of the WorldWideWeb.
A ‘public face’ & a ‘private face’ in an otherwise faceless

Multiverse. The simulacrum made through words 

we toss around to socialize.

Not touch (not real connection: aural, aura, sight, and touch).

A simulacrum made from emulation, a full denial of living senses.

Language. Name. And ‘so on.’

Because 

how loosely these words speak:

the syllables, wobbly.

(I dare not mention semiotics, as I won’t

get into mechanics 

or robotics). The meaning

already means things

before you repeat

it. You carry all with it,

the word is a planet.

People see their own worlds in words, their own worlds in you–

because it is not you they see,

it is them.

Or the same words being uttered

by others more ‘brothered’ than 

they care

to bother and understand 

of your use.

So I’ll just stick to guttural nonsense for 12 hundred.

And the ricocheting of syllables to create unique

and never-before used meanings.
But this is all part of the amazing thing I am here to tell you today!

The purpose of this social structure (the bad one,

with the hierarchy),

is to validate through subtle persecution.

This is -a- definition of “friendship.” 

(comparison/upholding/tearing-down….treachery.)

But if someone really stands out for being

Excellent (they are outstanding,

they stand out),

of course he is praised a little,

then ignored

then belittled.

Well, the Big Moral-Now-Mama 

forgot to stir the pot of detest, and random

left-over resentments. Annnd: shit.

It boiled the over the fuck onto my shoes.

But

that’s really the worst

that -I’ve- provoked.
But the amazing, mundane discovery I wanted

to tell you:

We’re all just a name on a bill of resentment

that will eventually come up, and be checked off

for no other reason than: 

our name is on the list.

We are there, “our time has come.”
And the worst, 

the fucking absolute worst fact

I can fathom,

is that that day,

that their names are called for nothing

will mean more than anything

to some sad somethings who think they never existed,

and because if that one thought,

they never will.

It is a fear

that prevents them all

from living life.

In accepting that fate,

they have fulfilled the prophecy

of becoming Nothing More

than a Name on a Bill of Resentment.

     -clw

        1-12-17
copyright: C. Ward 2017
crickle-bot publishing

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