Recently I’ve been noticing a disturbing pattern. I would message a stripper for a hook up outside of the club, “Hey would you wanna fuck for $150” “Yeah” they would respond. They said they would get ready and then go dark, despite me calling time and again voicemail after voicemail and flooding their phone with text messages. No answer hours after. I would run into the same stripper a few days a later and ask “Hey what happened that night?” they would let me know that oh yeah sorry insert said relative died that night. Aunts, Uncles, sisters, brothers, mothers, fathers. It kept happening, time and again. Sometimes even the same exact loved ones would die, twice over.
It has dawned on me that the common in denominator is me. And that I may be cursed. A plague personified. Nothing but death left in my wake. Everything I touch. Due to some selfish, short sighted pursuit of sexual gratification.
All of you stay the hell away it’s for the sake of your family. For the love of God. I’m diseased. I can’t tell you how or why but I do know that this is happening. I’ve decided my time in the mongering world has come to an end, and I take one last bow. Now for the rest of my days I’ll be left to ponder all the pain and sorrow I’ve caused, buts it’s the burden I have to bear….
wipes away the tears Looks out onto the ocean
…it’s the burden I have to bear.
Many years ago, when I worked retail management, I had transferred from one branch to another. Shortly before I had left, I filled a maintenance manager role that had been sorely needed and had seemed impossible to fill. I caught up with the manager who had been promoted into the slot I vacated and asked after the store. He asked if I was the one hired the serial killer.
"What?," is all I could respond with. "Cliff," he said, "the maintenance manager. How many times did he kill his wife when he worked for you?" "What?!," I was still stumped. "He's called out absent for bereavement three times in the four months that he has worked here."