More news from the front.

 

Dateline November 12^th 2002.

 

Last night as I’m drifting off to sleep my thoughts too drift and sway through the darkness of my mind and I stumble up on a way to finish a scene that has been eating at me for some time.  The wife rolls over and says, “Are you asleep?”

“No, just thinking,” I reply.

“About what?” She asks.

“About a scene”…..

And this conversation collapses into a monstrous argument.  She’s so fucking jealous and insecure that she actually said, “Your writing is just another way of escaping me!  You write about other girls, fantasy girls!”  Oh fuck!

 

If I haven’t warned you about marriage…I better do it now!

Don’t do it!  It’s death.  Women scream that men have no sense of commitment, well, they’re right!  Men recognize that the word can also define someone that has been locked away in a mental hospital! 

You’d think after 5 years of the same fucking argument, she’d get a fucking clue!  Jesus Christ!  But no, it’s the same thing every time: 

 

All you think about is Hollywood and the people there!  This is a complete twisting of the facts.  She’s such a fucking idiot!  I maybe a decent writer, but the true human heartstrings are bound to our eyes and locked into our ears.  We are much better at understanding something visually than we are intellectually.  Hollywood represents that to me.  It offers the ability to take basic ideas, that may lack a great writers touch, and turn them into visual masterpieces.  I do like that and it’s because of this love affair with the idea of the movies that I too enjoy Hollywood.  But to say that I obsess so much that I miss enjoying my family is arsine and ignorant.  Example?  Winona Ryder.  My wife knows more about the story than I do. What I’ve learned I’ve learned solely by listening to the radio.  But my wife turns this very story on me!  Says it as if I knew everything there was to know about her.  Fuck a duck, I can’t argue against that, because what it means is that she’s not listening to me.
My wife loves those soppy love stories, only of course if the actress who plays the lead isn't some plastic pre-shaped type, yet she gets angry at me when I write a story with a girl in it that professes some kind of love story? Is that hypocricy, if it isn't I need a ruling on the meaning of it, because, as is normal, women have the 'right' to constantly change the definitions of things to fit their own twisted purpose.

 

You don’t want what I want!  Well duh!  Besides the obvious fact that we are two entirely different people and had completely different lives before we met, I don’t remember the priest sayings, “And you vow to have the same interests?”  That would be ludicrous!  The reason why we got together was because of who we were…At least it better be.  If she came to me thinking instead, “I like him for who I’ll make him!”…she’s got another thing coming.

 

It’s so easy for you, because you are so willing to throw it all away!  Bullshit!  The truth is it’s terrible on me!  It kills me!  It eats at everything that I’ve built myself into over the course of these many years.  But the problem is that I’ve given her 5 years to get over her jealousy.  I’ve done everything that I was suppose to do!  I’ve done everything for her…and all I get is this constant barrage of accusations about my libido!  Fuck! 

I can’t even watch television in the house with out the worry that some 23 Barbie doll will dance across the screen selling Pepsi and cause my wife to fall into a fit of anger.  She’ll even say that it’s because of me that they chose that particular girl for the ad…to get my attention!

 

Oh the nightmare of marriage.  It’s insane!  A warn you again, don’t!  Don’t!  Don’t! 

There was once a great man who said, “A woman has everything to gain by marriage.  A man has everything to loose!” 

 

Save yourselves before it’s too late!