borchoderanged-blog

[borchoderanged-blog]

Interlude #1

Its 08/03.  I was looking at videos while pulling up a presentation for our beloved clients next week while also attending some obnoxious call about special offers, for which I could not care less, and then it occurred me I could do some videos... bloody and obscure, but altogether fake.  I don’t think I can go ahead and whole-sale slaughter a human being in front of a camera just for the memes... 

Or can’t I? 

Anyhow... I digress, the fakeness of this is a matter of further discussion.  I think I could use Paco for this one, we don’t need any actual originals, we can simply do “covers” for viral “obscure” or “shock” flicks that have been made online in the US, our illiterate youths would not be able to tell the difference. 

[borchoderanged-blog]

Despair

August 2:

Nothing is coming along, like nothing at all.  Its like if I am trapped in a version of me that I no longer like.  The job, goddammit, the job... I no longer feel pride of this, of what I do.  There is no longer a thrill for excellence, nor the pursue of higher goals, there is simply no honor in that, I will not reap the fruit of my strife.  

My friends are tedious, annoying at times, I love them but... I don’t enjoy them anymore.  Enjoyment, that is the key, I no longer enjoy anything.  I don’t enjoy my friends nor my job.  

My family is devoid of joy and happiness for me, my children are dull and numb, my daughters are loathsome and perverse, and my wife is only a source of grief and bereavement.  She cursed me, she did this to me... for no reason.  She has expressed her repent, but does repent really solves anything? I guess if her god was a real thing, repent would be meaningful, but what good does it make? I want to forgive her... or forget her, but I cannot.  I am trapped in a cage of feelings.  Love binds me, loyalty and friendship oblige me, and yet hatred, resentment and agony pull away, I am but a ragged doll, contested by two noxious children, selfish and careless... she is selfish and careless. 

The girls are but a reflection of her.  Willing to put sexual thrills before loyalty or honor, disgraceful and irresponsible, this goes beyond hormonal change, it is her taint I sense in them... and it tires me.  Like if in her wake she leaves behind vortexes of filth that suck at my very core, leaving me dry, filled only with boredom and anger.  

I fear for my pets, for I have become very violent with them.  I, at first, turned to my own body to draw the much needed blood my wrath demanded, fiery and incessant, I cut myself several times, but alas, my cuts were found by her and reproached me for them.  Since then I started to become aggressive to animals.  I was a nature loving young one back in the day, and still persevered some of that in my spirit, despite being subjected to modern day’s torture over and over... but now even that is gone.  She stripped me of it, and now I despise animals and wish them harm, not only that but will take any chance to inflict said harm unto them.  At first it was slight, but my aggression have escalated slowly and steadily, now I will hit the cats or dogs randomly and will not hesitate to seize the chance of hurling harmful objects at them, with the hope of slaying them, or at least harming them badly... luckily my aim sucks, like my decisions in life. 

She has also started to inspire loathsomeness in me, I despise the very sight of her, but yet I yearn of her company when I am away.  I tried to sort my mind and heart up, but I have only met resistance from my deepest feelings and her attitude is not helping.  She has been willing to walk away at will, in spite of the harm she inflicted upon me and still inflicts upon me.  She now wishes to celebrate her best friend’s birthday with a revelry that will, for sure, end in madness and adultery again... I can no longer trust her.  

I picked her phone the other day and found messages that were, to me, obviously directed to a romantic interest of hers... how dare she.  She has apologized thoroughly but has since been deleting more and more of her Whatsapp messages, she even took my phone and deleted some there.  Her apologetic attitude is pure hypocrisy, like the one that abounds in her church.  She has admitted nothing and will not talk about the subject, has given no logical or valid explanations about the episode, and I have a mind of myself to go seek those answers, even if it means harming myself.  At this point I would rather swallow shattered glass than keep this agony in my heart. 

Today she angered herself at our son, he has been slacking and doing poorly at school, this is no wonder as I am no longer in a state of looking after myself, let alone my progeny.  She, nonetheless, has been as carefree as usual, expecting adult like independence from a 10 year old, our daughter suffered this, our son will have to endure such a vile upbringing... I am sorry, child, but this is, regretfully, the mother I gave you.  She stated she was tired of dealing with him and his ability to elude her clutches and do away without completing homework, and while I reprimanded him, she yelled she was no longer caring about his studies and decided to utterly give up on the poor mutt.  To my surprise I found the valor and gut to sit by the little offspring while he completes his doings, I missed on League of Legends tonight, but that is also a joyless thing for me.  She blamed the game for her doings with other men... or another man... not sure if it was only one or maybe many, <who knows, who cares>. 

At the moment of truth I found myself unable to quit, quitting is not for me, and thus I condemn myself to stick around and brave the hail and storm, I am such a fool.  If there is a hell, I assure you, dear reader, it is not a thing of the afterlife, it is a place in this mundane world, inhabited by her and her twisted and perverted doings, right here in La Esperanza, 1-31A. 

[borchoderanged-blog]

Este es el primer fragmento de muchos de una historia caótica, la historia de Khazur, un Dios del caos, y de sus viajes por el universo.

[borchoderanged-blog]

Al microbusero de mierda

Cada vez que me pedís que colabore y me meta al fondo de esa lata de verga a la que llamás bus, que está todavía más hecha mierda que tu cara, monstruo malparido hijo de puta, me da tanta cólera. ¿No te ponés a pensar, cara de pija con sifilis, que no tengo ni una puta razón para colaborar con vos y darle paso a la retahíla de gente que querés meter en tu puto bus de mierda? Así es, mula, yo sí sé que no es un favor el que me estás haciendo. Yo sí sé que yo te doy de hartar, idiota de mierda. Así que vos tendrías que colaborar conmigo y con todos tus pasajeros. Somos tus clientes, pendejo. ¿De donde verga vas a sacar dinero para comer, pagar tu extorsion porque si no te matan, pagarle al dueño del bus y comprarte tus discos de música basura? Aborto mierda de Wisin y Yandel, si serás bien mula. Yo no colaboro con vos porque ya me estás cobrando el doble del pasaje, sólo porque es de noche, como que si tu mierda esa fuera solar o que vergas. Suerte tenés que aquí en Xela todos son igual de mulas que vos y no te han mandado a la mierda, pero me gustaría verte, pedacito de mierda, el día que nadie se quiera subir a tu bus y la gente prefiera caminar a pagarte a vos, mal nacido infeliz. Mirá, es fácil, solo tenés que servir bien a tu clientela. Así de simple. Obvio, no sabés eso porque sos un imbecil ignorante que cree que con poner música evangélica en tu mugrienta unidad te va a bendecir saber quién putas, como si una rola de Jesus Adrian Romero fuera a borrar tu misoginia, tus robos, tu alcoholismo y tu peste a mierda, o como si poner música de banda te fuera a hacer más pistudo que el Chapo. Deberías de pedirle al cielo que mañana te de dos neuronas al verte al espejo, así mejor te matás y le ahorrás el esfuerzo al marero de turno.

[borchoderanged-blog]

Cusp

So I finished writing a book, my first book, and it will compete in a national contest to find out which book is truly the shit on the entire fucking nation. Wanna know something? Not excited, fuck it. I hate the guts out of my own book, like an unwanted child. I guess this is what post birth depression is like. Thing is, nothing has been truly exciting lately, and that truly worries me, what if I can't find anything special to live for? I guess that I can write a new book and hope to feel in love with this one, isn't that what you people do with your relationships? Hell yeah! Imma give it a shot!

[borchoderanged-blog]

The hate enigma

Me and Paco are super sarcastic, the funny way. When we are together we make everyone in the room smile, excepting his mom, who is a very christian decent lady that hates sarcasm and blasphemy. I cannot really make a very effective example of the stuff we say, because each and every time we write online it stops sounding like fun and becomes hate speech. Wanna see me try? Well we were making fun of the 'so relatable' pics kids post online and I said: you gotta be related to your dad in two or more ways to find that shit fun. Everyone laughed then, but read it now: sounds like shit. We concluded we sound like a pair of angry feminazis with vagina fangs pointing out in every direction, but only when we write and have no clue why. Maybe is the lack of body language? Maybe we fail to transmit the proper tone when writing? If so I find it very ducking disturbing, me being a semi pro writer.

[borchoderanged-blog]

No tengo nada

No tengo nada será la gran puta. Esa es la peor paja de todo el puto maldito universo con un carajo ¡esa mierda es violencia psicológica de la peor! Si, a la mejor te hice encabronar, si a la mejor la cagué y así pero cuando me haces lo mismo la mejor forma de arreglarlo es decirte dónde putas la cagaste, ignorándote no gano nada, vos tampoco pero igual lo hacés y eso, te lo juro, duele como patada de mula en los putos huevos. Atentamente El Innombrable