Cost and Value (A   Ramble Thought) By Ross E F Lombardi . What do people "see in me"? . HA! No fucking idea! Likely nothing - by no one. Probably absolutely bugger all! I'm just another silly meaningless voice in the darkness Another lone nut shouting on the Internet. Making words that will do nothing. And art that will never be felt by anyone. Both - soul filled Creations I cannot even give away for free No one wants them No one wants me Just a man with no life worth fighting for. Not worth defending himself for No reason to survive No reason to thrive No reason to even want or care about making any money for. Or go to the doctors for a checkup for. If I made loads of money? Who would I spend it on? Anyone only attracted to me for that reason, is already, not worth the effort. Why get any medical checks? It's a hassle! A total waste of public money and resources. Who am I staying healthy for? I am disposable ...

  7am on a Saturday morning By Ross E F Lombardi . You know what would be Far nicer than making comments on Fartbook and Twatter at 7am on a Saturday morning? Making someone you love a cup of tea in bed and chatting, about your plans for the day, your shared memories, and a thousand other little minor things. The body warmth, mild scent, and presence of emotional intimacy as you talk about something simple, like, what brand of beans to buy, or which walk route through some woodland is nicer. Or the best name for a hypothetical cat. Feeling the same sunlight through the window, breathing the same closed off room air, and feeling that gentle affection for eachother. But that can never be 'me' now. - So do you know what I am ACTUALLY doing at 7am on a Saturday morning? I am, instead, making comments on Fartbook and Twatter. I doom-scroll, make comments on the internet, and scream into a neon green digital void, a demonic maw with endless teethy rows of sharpest plastic.. - This i...

  . "Unshared Memories." . "Sure Redcar beach IS beautiful.. " "But.. "... does it even matter?" "When any of these little memories can not be shared with anyone?" "What is the value of an unshared memory?!!" .

  "Dear everyone, everywhere" Size A2, oil paste on paper . Dear everyone, everywhere . Loneliness is not that bad Friendship is only an optional entertainment, it is not needed You acceptance is not required, Love is a lie Sex is overrated: Porn is far more convenient I am right - and you are all wrong ....about almost everything. Gods you all worship are all actually evil entities. The flags you all kill and die for are just 'rags on a stick' that I'd happily wipe my arse on. Popularity is just a "chain 'n cage" that tries to seduce and controle you All your joint, closely held - traditions, cultures, habits and other 'group rules' are rancid Your opinions, "likes", and 'gifted' 'charitable' tolerance of me is not cared about. I'd rather break than bend I'd rather die than comply YOU Are shit! We are all crap None of us have any value STOP trying to "save me" or bring the "nice before divorce...

  THE FICITIONAL FANTASY ‘PIT FIGHTER’ WARRIOR, THE MAGIC POTION .. …AND MY TRUE REALITY. – By Ross E F Lombardi . Imagine the following scenario (This scenario is a metaphor... ...but we will get to that later) . Imagin you were a pit fighter in some warped dystopian version of our world. Indentured, enslaved, forced to fight against your will. . Every three or four weeks... ...without warning... Ready or not... No matter how inconvenient... A van pulls up and takes you to the pit fight. . You are thrown into the pit to fight for your life. And if you win, you get to live for another three to four weeks. . And this repeats. You only have that three or four weeks to heal and recover for the next fight. They don't care if you are not ready It does not matter how badly injured you still are. Again, with no warning, every three to four weeks, you are picked up in the van and still forced to fight for your life. . And you keep winning! But the damage that never gets a chance to heal be...

! FUCK NAZIS ?? ! Eeeeeewwwww! Hell NO! . I do not care how pretty she is... Or How lonely I am! Or How ugly I am! . I am NOT I REPEAT "NOT"! Going to even kiss a Nazi, So I am definitely, not knowingly, ever going to willingly fuck one! . Eeeeeewwwww! Hell NO! I’d Much rather never touch a woman ever again than resort to THAT shit! . I do Not want my dick anywhere near Nazi pussy! .

I should Really delete Facebook. Or force them to give me a permanent account ban: if I lack the willpower to quit Facebook myself. All it ever does, is cause me psychologicsl and emotional harm. I feel compelled to look at Facebook. Then 5 mins later I go from 'healthy' to 'self harming' and/or full of "dangerous to others" rage. Every second panel tells me how shit I am as a person, at every level, from gender, class, age ect Every other panel makes me hate the entire world by showing me it's cruelty and the evil of humanity. And yet I keep picking up this shitty site, and scroll chase dopamine and emotions like any other addict of any other drug. Facebook is shit And I should quit . But I know that I won't Not voluntary. I hope facebook ban me, for life, one day soon. Because I'm far better off without it. .

? I often question if my ex was "Bad" this way (manipulative, controlling, narcissistic) - Or whether I am just projecting and imagining that to make me feel better? as if me being a victim, then makes the marriage failure, somehow, ok? - I'm I just being delusional to protect my pride? Or was she "this"? Is the truth somewhere in the middle? And if so, how far along the line of that middle and in which direction? How much was 'me' and how much was 'her'? What if it was me? What If I am the bad one? What if I am unknowingly the manipulative, controlling, narcissistic one and SHE is a victim, of what I am? I’m I unknowingly, just another version of my horrible genetic father? Am I a bad person with a thick layered mask of excuses? – Or not? What is “Just in my head”? and what is “real”? . Should I even date – IF there is even the slightest chance, I am a bargain bin budget version of my abusive genetic father? . The constant self-doubt is not...