Cursed
Muddy
USA
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.
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.
9 comments
"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."
at 160 the guy gives 8 20's-done. at 150 the girl is most likely thinking this fucking guy went out of his way to break one of those 20's into 2 10's or 4 5's,
i wonder how would she react if you gave 158.