Last night, I punched a wall three times with both fists, broke my skin, bled a little but felt no pain [ to vent my anger on something solid, not his very inviting head] and tried by so doing to let a person know that if I said to him he should not say to me when drunk what he could not say when sober, because I am never "friendly" towards anyone, and my 'arrogance' is just a means of keeping my distance from people, because frankly I do not 'like' anyone.
So, right now, I am still here in South Africa because half my mind is on finishing what Michelle started with me, when she decided to be 'friendly', caring, calling me a fool and being 'involved' with me in an effort to 'stop me in my tracks' which she regarded as her solemn duty.
Now I KNOW I have a permanent bloodlust, and the sight of blood dripping and heads rolling, no the very 'thought' of it, makes me start getting a rush, and a desire to kill.
And frankly, I want to smash her long nose, and then break her kneecaps, and then pull her head off her shoulders.
But she is 'fortunate', because when I was telling her how I was unhappy with her and she said I should not blame her for putting my life on hold, she almost got me to get it 'going' again.
Except that, there actually EXIST some women who, just by being THERE, or themselves, make me desist from wanting to lash out.
1) The 'divorcee' who, it turns out, is not one. Thought she was like Michelle at first but then I reasoned, 'who would come to court with a lawyer except someone summoned to court,to defend herself' and also the guy I thought was her husband was told by the lawyer that they had an injunction against him, but there he was, so it was not against him being there with her but against him wanting to 'see my son'. Anyway, women want the sympathy thing, so to impress a judge she would have worn, oh-poor-me-I-am-a-harmless-put-upon-woman clothes.So this must be something else.She was too unconscious of her effect on people to ever have 'experienced' it.
2)The other 'sexy' girl whose face I wanted to see but who first showed me her boobs, as if saying, I have big ones...well, I like that size actually...most white people do not get to the right proportions.
3) The girl who was so aware of me she stared at me on the beach full in the eye, as if saying, I am not a threat, I just wanted to see your face, to see if you are for real.The kids moved too quickly away from her for them to be used to doing what they were'told' without words. Any child will not 'obey' the mother, since they are enemies.
4) The diving girl, who seemed to be ashamed of her perfect waistline, when I thought such a person could not exist.
5)The 'tanned' girl, whose feisty and provocative approach made me realise there would never be a dull moment with her, because she would not know the meaning of fear, which suits me, especially as she did not, however, try to look me in the eye.
6)The blonde 'mother' whose voice soothed me when the other one grated on my nerves, and she has such a cute little bottom and sat staring at me directly while sitting like a schoolgirl I did not want to voice the obvious...that she must never have 'known' a man to look so frankly curiously at me and then respectfully turn away to speak 'politely' to her mother.
7)The sexy blonde who also looked me in the eye and wore red-lipstick and who felt so 'safe' I knew she would never rouse me to anger.
These are as you may see, from the original ten I had said I picked.
From the five, I have dropped the two blondes who gave me the cap. The reason is they would draw my attention to them, and they spoke too much and showed their teeth at me. To them I was a man, who plays the games they play, but to these other three, I was first what I appeared, a very, very, dangerous person.
1) The girl I assumed was a 'mother' although she said, now that I think of it, let us wait for papa, not 'your papa', and anyway, the kids were too well behaved for them to be hers, because mothers tend to be so domineering that if a kid gets a chance to be cheeky in public though he may pay for it later, then he will. Those were not her kids, and she could not have been a mother..she was too unconscious of her beauty to be one. She did not have the 'come-on to me' look that I automatically despise.
2) The other 'bridesmaid mother'. Now, a woman who is a single mother, or even a married one, would be hesitant about being a bridesmaid, but she was not, and she was planning too much for them to be her kids. Mothers tend to be the whining-but-yanking-the-chain type of people when it comes to kids; always saying 'dont do this, didnt I tell you not to do that, remember yesterday? I will get you, and dont you even think about going there, I am watching you, and now, see what you have made me do! I can not even do anything by myself anymore, and you are so ungrateful'.
Anyway, the kid did not try to hide his head on her bosom when I saw him on her hips, which meant he had already made the distinction between her and the real mother, because she did not hold him 'crushed to him' like mothers do their babies.
3) The Dutch girl, but her I already spoke of, so these women can 'hold my hand' anytime, because none of them called me a fool, tried to dissuade me from what I was doing or tried to stop me in my tracks so I could just stare at them.
So, with me, it is that very thin line, the thin red line between the legs, that seperates the 'friends' from the 'enemies'.
So, right now, I am still here in South Africa because half my mind is on finishing what Michelle started with me, when she decided to be 'friendly', caring, calling me a fool and being 'involved' with me in an effort to 'stop me in my tracks' which she regarded as her solemn duty.
Now I KNOW I have a permanent bloodlust, and the sight of blood dripping and heads rolling, no the very 'thought' of it, makes me start getting a rush, and a desire to kill.
And frankly, I want to smash her long nose, and then break her kneecaps, and then pull her head off her shoulders.
But she is 'fortunate', because when I was telling her how I was unhappy with her and she said I should not blame her for putting my life on hold, she almost got me to get it 'going' again.
Except that, there actually EXIST some women who, just by being THERE, or themselves, make me desist from wanting to lash out.
1) The 'divorcee' who, it turns out, is not one. Thought she was like Michelle at first but then I reasoned, 'who would come to court with a lawyer except someone summoned to court,to defend herself' and also the guy I thought was her husband was told by the lawyer that they had an injunction against him, but there he was, so it was not against him being there with her but against him wanting to 'see my son'. Anyway, women want the sympathy thing, so to impress a judge she would have worn, oh-poor-me-I-am-a-harmless-put-upon-woman clothes.So this must be something else.She was too unconscious of her effect on people to ever have 'experienced' it.
2)The other 'sexy' girl whose face I wanted to see but who first showed me her boobs, as if saying, I have big ones...well, I like that size actually...most white people do not get to the right proportions.
3) The girl who was so aware of me she stared at me on the beach full in the eye, as if saying, I am not a threat, I just wanted to see your face, to see if you are for real.The kids moved too quickly away from her for them to be used to doing what they were'told' without words. Any child will not 'obey' the mother, since they are enemies.
4) The diving girl, who seemed to be ashamed of her perfect waistline, when I thought such a person could not exist.
5)The 'tanned' girl, whose feisty and provocative approach made me realise there would never be a dull moment with her, because she would not know the meaning of fear, which suits me, especially as she did not, however, try to look me in the eye.
6)The blonde 'mother' whose voice soothed me when the other one grated on my nerves, and she has such a cute little bottom and sat staring at me directly while sitting like a schoolgirl I did not want to voice the obvious...that she must never have 'known' a man to look so frankly curiously at me and then respectfully turn away to speak 'politely' to her mother.
7)The sexy blonde who also looked me in the eye and wore red-lipstick and who felt so 'safe' I knew she would never rouse me to anger.
These are as you may see, from the original ten I had said I picked.
From the five, I have dropped the two blondes who gave me the cap. The reason is they would draw my attention to them, and they spoke too much and showed their teeth at me. To them I was a man, who plays the games they play, but to these other three, I was first what I appeared, a very, very, dangerous person.
1) The girl I assumed was a 'mother' although she said, now that I think of it, let us wait for papa, not 'your papa', and anyway, the kids were too well behaved for them to be hers, because mothers tend to be so domineering that if a kid gets a chance to be cheeky in public though he may pay for it later, then he will. Those were not her kids, and she could not have been a mother..she was too unconscious of her beauty to be one. She did not have the 'come-on to me' look that I automatically despise.
2) The other 'bridesmaid mother'. Now, a woman who is a single mother, or even a married one, would be hesitant about being a bridesmaid, but she was not, and she was planning too much for them to be her kids. Mothers tend to be the whining-but-yanking-the-chain type of people when it comes to kids; always saying 'dont do this, didnt I tell you not to do that, remember yesterday? I will get you, and dont you even think about going there, I am watching you, and now, see what you have made me do! I can not even do anything by myself anymore, and you are so ungrateful'.
Anyway, the kid did not try to hide his head on her bosom when I saw him on her hips, which meant he had already made the distinction between her and the real mother, because she did not hold him 'crushed to him' like mothers do their babies.
3) The Dutch girl, but her I already spoke of, so these women can 'hold my hand' anytime, because none of them called me a fool, tried to dissuade me from what I was doing or tried to stop me in my tracks so I could just stare at them.
So, with me, it is that very thin line, the thin red line between the legs, that seperates the 'friends' from the 'enemies'.
