What do you want me to say, all you motherfuckers who read my “blog” but don’t answer my texts? The fuck you want me to say? You want me to put my money where my mouth is, that was always the problem, right? You want me to say that The Church is all bullshit and it’s destructive in its subtle psychotic ways? Sure, I just said it. You want me to say sorry? I’m done with that. I’m forgiven. Except you Christina, I’m sorry to you. Now I’m done, no more apologies.

What you want? You want me to get craaaaaazy? You want me to FLIP OUT? Yeah you do, Benny, yeah you do. Yeah you fuckin do you fuckin hipsters who knew more about being safe and polished than anything else. You looked crazy though! With your tattoos and gauges and shit! You got me! CRAAAAAAAZY!!!

All you fucking clowns, all you fucking morons who thought I was too good-looking to have talent. Yeah you been going crazy through me for years. Fucking morons. Where’d you get the idea for the beard? The mustache? Whatever the fuck you’re sportin’ these days. Let’s talk about it.

Let’s talk originality. Let’s talk soul-less cities with economies based on inebriation and escape. Let’s talk about why I moved the fuck outta here in the first place. At least when I was a kid we had some fellas who could skate and a few “gay” punk bands who dared to be themselves.

So Tony and Junior die, so what we just make and drink beer now? That’s what we do? We have nice hotels downtown and palm trees and the nicest weather. And people wonder why the stadium is full of Cubs fans when Chicago comes to town.

What, you think there’s nothing behind this face? You think I ain’t seen shit? You think I was always tall, acne-free and I could always throw like Cool Joe?

I ain’t that tall and I don’t throw that hard. You just throw like a bitch. What you want like $50 for Ether 12:27? You want $5oo for Bright Lights Big City? That’s a good one. That’s funny man. The price is a billion dollars. A billion dollars motherfuckers. The fuck you know about going to the well? Try standing up straight for once in your life you fuckin morons. Get the fuck out of here.

I know short, I know fat, I know ugly. I know spit-on and laughed-at. I know getting cut and getting dumped. I know getting jumped, being broke, a joke. So shut the fuck up.

And sorry about the face. It don’t do shit- it made things tougher actually. People showed me their best so I was convinced the world was a nice place so I became nice, and a believer. You know. Mostly I became good, I represent the good in everyone, the hope and all that. I know this seems silly to say right now, as it’s obvious that there’s darkness. But you know, I don’t have to spell it out. It’s about exercising the demons. It’s catharsis, therapy, and ultimately inspirational. It’s a complicated world. I don’t know if Deepak would approve but I mean, I don’t think he’s seen a tumor hemorrhage like that so sometimes I get to go against script. You know what I mean? I move to Boston, out of my Mormhole and I don’t know nothing or nobody, I blithely say I’m moving to “meet artists” and “become a writer” and wouldn’t you know it I meet all those artists and on top of that I learn to play bass like a boss. Know what I mean? I don’t play by ya’ll’s rules. I knew I spelled hemorage wrong but I still know I’m a genius. Cat’s outta the bag, know what I mean?

So I represent the good in people, their hopes and shit, but I obviously have to deal with my demons so I’m dealing them here. You know with this face, people hold you to a high standard and they come to you and tell you they’re quitting cigarettes or that they’re mustering up the courage to go busking. And I gotta be there and I gotta smile and I gotta tell em’ good job. And I had to go to the well to figure out how to back up that face. I had to go through a hell that you don’t know to earn what’s behind this face.

And I decided I wanted to be that guy on the inside because my dead brother doesn’t let me quit life so I might as well make life tolerable. I don’t want to be full of shit anymore. So I’m cleanin’ out my closet. It might get ugly.

Mom, you pissed me off. Ya’ll Did. And ya’ll know who ya’ll are. Dad you pissed me off too but you get a pass because you’re a boss and you’re why I’m a boss and I love you like you don’t know.

But Mom, ya’ll fucked up. Not me. Not me. Ya’ll did and you know it. But you don’t know it. I can say fuck and shit a million times and ya’ll are still wrong. I can even say cunt. Ya’ll don’t get it man. It goes right through you. I know because I used to not get it and it used to go right through me. And somewhere in you, you know that, as I always knew it somewhere in me. I ain’t apologizing for nothing to nobody. Any apologizing is coming from ya’ll and ya’ll better be on your knees and crying like babies. Groveling, screaming, crying. Ya’ll don’t get it. CLUELESS. You almost killed me.

I’m a HUMAN you know that? I’m YOUR SON, you know that? Ya’ll GAVE BIRTH TO ME. You get that? Ya’ll birthed me. Your worst fucking nightmare.

Now this is where you all have to really stop and think long and hard about what I just said. Ya’ll need to think long and hard about this whole thing but I want you to think long and hard about how ya’ll LITERALLY GAVE BIRTH TO ME. Because this is where you are stupid. Think.

I deserve to be heard though. Ya’ll know that. Ya’ll KNOW that. IT’S MY MOTHERFUCKING RIGHT, YOU UNDERSTAND ME? I’m American as apple pie. You think I don’t know that? I heard your shit. All my life. I heard your shit. And you lost me. You talked shit about my Dad. You know what I hated the most? When I showed up on some Sunday School role sheet as Aaron Jones. Makes me nauseous. The name is LITCHFIELD motherfuckers. L-I-T-C-H-F-I-E-L-D. New England tough motherfuckers. You underestimated me motherfuckers. You underestimated me. You spit me out into the world, left me with nothing, left me for dead motherfuckers. I gave the world my crazy when you deserved to see it. But I made it anyway motherfuckers! I made it anyway! You wanted me in the gutter motherfuckers! You wanted me to hit rock bottom! YOU WANTED ME DEAD!


Why do you want me dead?

i threaten your beliefs

You wanted me dead and I’m alive and I’m alive FOREVER now motherfuckers because you underestimated me. AM I CLEAR? You talked shit about everyone and everything. You judged everyone and everything. And you talked and talked and my Dad never said a word. Never said a word, and I go his way. Think about that too motherfuckers. Think about that too. My old man’s a boss. I think you need a father figure, Aaron. Yeah? I got one, he’s called Superman. The fuck outta here with that bullshit. My old man is Superman.

But I’m even censoring this. I’m censoring this motherfucker right now so maybe ya’ll are lucky. Fuckin morons. I knew I spelled hemorage wrong but didn’t even give a darn. Ain’t puttin this motherfucker back in the bag.


Kid knows.

No, like he REALLY knows now.


The old bravado, it was fake, it was when he didn’t know. All his ideas. Runnin’ around. He had no clue. CLUELESS! USELESS! Yoga, right? It was yoga. And that crazy talk about his ear and scar tissue. Yeah, it’s all bullshit right? He’s crazy. Needs to work on his tact. TOO honest even. Who’s got the reputation for brutal honesty? Who’s got the reputation for an accurate memory? LOOK ME IN THE EYES and tell me I’m crazy,  just as I looked you in the eyes when you “bore your testimony.” You wanna talk about crazy, motherfuckers? You wanna talk about some CRAZY MOTHERFUCKERS? I can look you in the eyes and tell you I was a good missionary. Did you go on a mission? Did you even go on a motherfucking mission motherfuckers? Yeah I’m making it all up motherfuckers, that I’m waking it all up after 25 years motherfuckers. You know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna keep making ya’ll look stupid. That’s what I’m gonna do. Full of shit huh? Just a pothead huh? Yeah we’ll see about that. He’s all over the place. Who is he talking to? Whom is he speaking as? Read it again motherfuckers, I did.

So I moved to Boston a little taller than you with my stupid grin. I haven’t seen shit and you have right? What? I ain’t streetsmart? Nah, I don’t know shit- an indoor kid. The fuck I know. Sexuallllllly… he’s pretty black and white. The way he treats girls, it’s okay though, it’s how he was raised.

And how was I raised?

The fuck you know how I was raised?

You seen a kid-

The fuck you know

*The swearing, it’s his style


You seen a kid, you seen your brother older than you by 15 months, you seen blood hemorrhage from his neck? Not really his neck, but the thing on his neck? The thing that’s like the size of an egg with veins and stuff pulsating through it with a thin lair of peach fuzz? THE THING on THE KID? You know, the tumor. Cancer.

I feel like bloggin’ now motherfuckers.

I feel like bloggin’ now.

A-Ron, you know your blog is gay right?

I seen that thing hemorrhage from his neck while he was arm wrestling Adam.

And actually, he is mine motherfuckers. He actually is more mine more than he’s anyone else’s. Ether 12:27 was waaaaaaaay too nice. Way too nice. I let em’ get away with one there. All good though. Yeah, I’m lying when I say a professor told me that it had everything a story should. Yeah, I’m making that up and that he asked me to basically recite to him his favorite part. Probably cuz like ya’ll, he didn’t believe neither. Wanted to hear me say it. The part where Amy tells me to get on my knees and shows me things from her perspective. All bullshit. Hey, I made good on some things Babe. I don’t even think you believed but I made good anyway.

He was arm wrestling Adam, who was a year and a half older, significantly stronger and cancer-free. But Tyler tried so hard he made that fucking thing bleed.

None of us cried. We called the ambulance but Uncle Tom got there first.

He’s INSIDE me, motherfuckers. You understand? I’ve said it before, but it doesn’t get through your thick skulls- He’s IN me, more than he’s in anyone else.

Fucking clowns.

Fucking morons.


Brilliance is my style you fucking rejects, he wouldn’t accept anything less.

The fuck out of here



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