Hey, you scum.
You get up in the morning, hating the day, hating your life, looking in the mirror and hating yourself.
That is as it should be.
You made that, you did that, you created that.
No one else.
Every day, every second of every day, people have an infinite number of choices of how they will behave. You chose behavior that led to your being a piece of shit, to your life being a total fucking waste, to your present and future being one of impotent frustration and eventual premature death. A death as meaningless as your life has been.
Guess what, motherfucker? The way I treat people like you, the way I avoid you, the sneer I have on my face as I see you approach me for assistance? It’s all there for this single reason:
I am better than you.
I will always be better than you.
Because I do not behave as you behave.
Last week I found someone’s credit card and state-issued ID on the sidewalk. I went out of my way to find a police officer to turn them in to. I even gave the officer my contact info, even though such things are optional.
The day after that, I found someone’s public assistance card on the sidewalk. I went out of my way to the social services office to turn that in.
That is how I behave.
And then you, you piece of shit, turn around and thieve from me.
That is why I am better than you. That is why I will always be better than you. That is why I can watch your life dribble away in shitty skilless make-work labor; in begging on the street; in watching you being hassled and dragged away by the police. The labor is more than you deserve. The begging and imprisonment are your just desserts.
You ripped a year of my life away from me. A year that wasn’t the best for me, but a single year I wouldn’t trade for your entire miserable fucking existence.
A lowlife shit like you won’t know what to do with what you took from me. You probably don’t even know anybody who would know what to do with what you took from me. The device, oh try to sell it on ebay, please. That will give me your name and address.
And then I will find you and I will kill you.
That is right. Kill. YOU.
I said this the other night in a stationhouse full of police officers who wondered if they should reach for their guns. This after they explained to me that the collection of rigged bullshit called the “law” claimed my situation was not, in its perverted eyes, a theft. That, despite paying my taxes to support a police force, that force could do nothing to assist me.
The fact is this, you piece of shit — and all you other pieces of shit out there — there is no person or institution on this entire planet that scares me. My fear is gone. I have faced death. It does not frighten me. And if death doesn’t, who and what the fuck can?
Enjoy your crooked little victory over me while you can. I don’t expect you to ever put it up on ebay — sellers have to charge more to ship it than the amount of a winning bid — so I don’t ever expect to be lucky enough to run into you that way. In fact, I don’t expect to ever run into you at all.
But guess what, you thieving scum?
My rage will subside. For now. But dig it, because I can feel it: There is a Righteous Rage building in this nation. We who would never be you are reaching the end of our patience with your kind. Dying as a beggar will soon be a nostalgic extravagance to your kind. Mark my fucking words. Let them be the final thought in your crooked, empty mind as you find yourself cornered, pissing and shitting yourself in terror, as we who have had too much finally scrub this nation clean of your filth.
For now, one of my infinite choices is to try to repair the damage you have done. Writing this is part of that. Words you can’t understand, even if you can read.
Now I will go on. With a life that is damaged, but still ever so better than yours can ever, ever, ever hope to be.
A piece of shit like you beat me?
That fucking day will never happen.