This is it, then.  After so many nights spent trying to force my
dreams to obey my commands, I am finally the loser.  No bell is needed
to tell me that the fight is over.  I have lost, and you, by default,
have won.  Smile.  Smoke a cigarette.  Drink with your friends.
Celebrate in whatever fashion suits you.  You have won.

That I have lost yet another fight is nothing new;  years of many
losses have trained me to accept defeat.  That this is but one fight
in many is also something I accept.  But for all that I have lost, you
have lost much more.  What once was a man you considered a brother is
now a distant figure glimpsed briefly in the swirling sheets of rain
that fall from within the clouds of a hurricane.  And I know you will
not acknowledge the truth of it.

As always, you will continue to chase Love, seeking its warmth within
the arms of whichever smiling set of lips has the best Listerine
coverage on his beer breath..  You will continue to fuck them, and
they will never cease to fuck your body.  They will use your cunt for
the cum dump that is most easily reached in their drunken state.  They
will spew the words that you want to hear so long as their stomachs
can hold the Jack Daniels.  And you will drop them, seeing that they
do not offer what you desire... and seek another in the same place
which spawned him.

I?  I will do as I have always done:  survive.  Another year without a
woman is nothing to me..  I survived five years without the touch of a
woman's hand on my chest as I kissed her lips.  What is one more?
Several more?  An eternity?  Nothing.  They are nothing.  I will be
that thing which is shown in freak shows and carnivals.  I will
survive.

Do I love you?  If love is caring, then yes.  If love is knowing
someone's smile, warm and bright on the darkest and coldest of Winter
nights, then no.  If Love is feeling good whenever someone cares for
you, then no.  If love is knowing the pleasures of the flesh with
someone whom you would gladly sacrifice your soul for, then no.  So
then... do I love you?  I leave that to those with enough time on
their slips of paper or slots in a database.

When I see our bodies together, and I make the image change into that
of two bodies pleasuring each other, there is always something
missing.  Like the other side of the coin.  You.  Your caring.  That
which truly makes you human.  I am there, raw and naked both in body
and soul.  You... are nothing more than a body.  Not cold... not
warm... just a body.  You do as your cunt desires.  You suck dick as
you see fit.  When you touch me here or there, it is because of some
twisted notion that I need to be touched here or there.  Where is the
Woman?  Where is the Human?  Does it exist?  Did it ever?

I could blame it on the cards which Life dealt you, but that would not
be fair or just.  To you.  To Life.  To myself.  When you feel one
cock after the next slide through the gateway to your lust, do you
even care?  I do not mean that you make them wear a condom... DO YOU
CARE?  Do you worry about the future which you may well bear into this
world?  Do you care?  Do you think about the Man?  Does he matter?
Even a street walker cares for something:  the next fix... their own
safety.  What do you care about?  Number One?  I find that hard to
believe;  If you did then why do you constantly reach for love,
knowing your hand will get cut on the jagged rocks you climb?

When I rest, letting the night claim me for what may be the last time,
and I see your face...  Pain does not begin to describe what I feel.
Even when I penetrate your rear, sliding my manhood into your nether
Hole, I hear nothing.  Not a sigh... not a whimper... not a groan...
not a yell.  Nothing.  Fast.  Slow.  It doesn't matter;  I hear
nothing.  What do you feel?  Do you feel the invader inside of you, or
have there been so many that one more is but one more?  I see your
hips move, but is that because you hate what I am doing, like it, love
it beyond all comprehension?  Or is it just something you do... like
breathing.

What about when I feast on your sex?  Do you even care that someone
has taken the time to worship, even if but for a moment, your center?
Am I just one more tongue... another to pay lip service?  WHAT AM I TO
YOU THEN!  Lick.  Slurp.  Suck.  Are these words used by artist
drawing explicit cartoons?  Do you hear them?  Do you feel them?  Do
you caress my head in passion, or because I am some sick pup which
needs to be reassured of its master's love.

I have lost, and that is fact.  Truth.  it may be denied.  It can even
be forgotten.  But it is, which is more than I can say for you.  So
drink and be merry.  Fuck one more dick... several more.  It does not
matter.  I know not what Fate has in store for you, but know this:


When you reach out for my hand, it will not be there.  When you look
for my face, you will only see nothing.  When you cry out my name, I
will not be able to hear you.  I have lost much.  My honor.  My soul.
My Humanity.  These and many more... past and future... will I lose.
Yet I will survive.  You may shed one tear, but I will not be there to
see it.  When that dick spills its seed on your belly or face or
inside your cunt, I will not know it.  I will survive.  So celebrate.

You have won.