Bayley Loves You, Which Is Why She's Serving Up Brutal Honesty in This Cartoon

 

Amy Lee: Fairweather Fans Come and Go, But True Love Is Forever, Which Was Why She Married Josh Hartzler

 

Bill Sessions: a "Winner" Who Didn't Use Drugs, But Probably Other Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms

 

Code Miko vs. Milton from Wayne's World 2 (Rest in Peace, Chris Farley)

 

Wesley Anselmo a.k.a. Scar Tissue

 

All the potential of a rock n' roll legend and none of the opportunities.

The One

VERSE 1

“Surf the internet in incognito mode?

You’re on your way to hell, a lonely road

Pray to god and take your ginkgo biloba

Stop drinking every bottle of diet soda”

Your medical advice must be so nice

For those on a diet of crackers of rice

You care so much if I’m seduced and enticed

By the ladies on the screen who bring the spice

 

PRE-CHORUS

Since you’re so emotionally invested

Here’s a little challenge so unexpected

 

CHORUS 1

Find me! The one who cares

Find me! The one who stares

At me with pretty eyes

Makes my spirit rise, destroys your lies

Find me! The one who cares

Find me! The one who shares

Her bed with me tonight

It’s a trick question, just admit I’m right

 

VERSE 2

“Yo, bro! Just swallow these red pills

Watch some UFC, get those bloody thrills

Don’t simp for nobody, go get yourself laid

It doesn’t count if your lover gets paid”

I’ve never seen so many SWERFS in one whole place

Who never gave a woman her own O-face

That’s okay, I haven’t done that myself

So I’m jerking it raw for my mental health

 

PRE-CHORUS

Since you’re so emotionally invested

Here’s a little challenge so unexpected

 

CHORUS 1

Find me! The one who cares

Find me! The one who stares

At me with pretty eyes

Makes my spirit rise, destroys your lies

Find me! The one who cares

Find me! The one who shares

Her bed with me tonight

It’s a trick question, just admit I’m right

 

VERSE 3

“Your computer’s slowing down, are you watching corn?

There must be other ways to keep your dick warm

Go touch some grass and then go get some ass

Here’s your invoice for the day, credit or cash?”

Five hundred bucks? Who’s got that kind of money?

I could have spent it in The Land of Milk and Honey

Oh wait, you’re one of them Elon Musk tech bros

Is that why you’ve got brown stains on your nose?

 

CHORUS 2

Oh well! It feels like no one cares

Oh well! It feels like no one wears

Every little hat I’ve got

You couldn’t walk in my shoes, couldn’t take my spot

Oh well! It feels like no one cares

Oh well! It feels so unfair

And now I sound just like a guy

With a microphone and a podcast, why?

Dump and Dip

VERSE 1

My mom’s ex-boyfriend was a son of a bitch

Gave me lots of mental wounds, ripped open every stitch

Fatphobia and psychophobia

Any flavor of bigotry, the worst and the odious

Never mind the fact that he weighed more than me

And he’s got his own version of PTSD

The cycle of abuse passed the Boomer generation

The chain breaks here, I deserved the vacation

 

CHORUS

Got no time to process, keep your handsome proboscis

Out of my business, ‘cause you bear false witness

Won’t spend a single day in Sad People Jail

A.k.a. the psych ward, that’s where justice goes to fail

 

VERSE 2

When I was in prison a.k.a. high school

Those conservative batshits were so easy to fool

Spread a rumor about me dating a monster

Fuck anything that walks, I’m a sexual imposter

That shit wasn’t true and I screamed it ‘til I’m blue

Punching and kicking was the only thing to do

That’s where I learned to solve problems with violence

But since it’s illegal, I’m confined to my silence

 

CHORUS

Got no time to process, keep your handsome proboscis

Out of my business, ‘cause you bear false witness

Won’t spend a single day in Sad People Jail

A.k.a. the psych ward, that’s where justice goes to fail

 

VERSE 3

College was the time for partying and drugs

Limerence was my addiction, falsified hugs

Crushes on musicians and actresses

Took the place of real life, ‘cause I drew no attractions

A million pounds and a resting bitch face

Made me a pariah no matter what the place

No friends, no lovers, no teachers turned besties

Still limerent today, in my mind and in my testies

 

CHORUS

Got no time to process, keep your handsome proboscis

Out of my business, ‘cause you bear false witness

Won’t spend a single day in Sad People Jail

A.k.a. the psych ward, that’s where justice goes to fail

 

VERSE 4

I call it Dump and Dip because I don’t like to talk

About personal shit, got no choice but to walk

Can’t let them see my cry or overprotect me

No nurses for me, don’t even bother to inject me

With the world’s most powerful sedative juice

That could TKO a whale, double KO a moose

My freedom means more than an orderly’s pay

My individuality is here to fucking stay

 

CHORUS

Got no time to process, keep your handsome proboscis

Out of my business, ‘cause you bear false witness

Won’t spend a single day in Sad People Jail

A.k.a. the psych ward, that’s where justice goes to fail

March Was the Drizzling Shits

…Alright, look…I’m not going to bullshit you guys. The month of March in 2024 has been absolute dogshit for me. I’m grateful to get off of Risperidone, but there’s a price to pay for doing that. I thought I’d been over the worst of it when I stopped sweating profusely and when I wasn’t boiling hot all the time. But there’s another side effect that I’m still dealing with today that I don’t talk about very often. I don’t talk about it because it’s a creepy subject. Ever since I got off Risperidone, I’ve been incredibly horny 24/7. I’ve been living in my own head thinking about these elaborate sexual and romantic fantasies while being completely disconnected from the real world. Anytime I’ve had to step outside my own “heaven” as I call it, I’ve been cranky and irritable, even if I’m doing something that’ll benefit my family like doing laundry or going grocery shopping. I was shopping at Safeway one time and I was getting frustrated that I couldn’t go home to my room and…take care of business. But “taking care of business” only keeps the horniness at bay for a short period of time. And then I’m banging on “heaven’s gates” wanting to be let back in. This has been my entire March in 2024. Three poems and a stream-of-consciousness essay came out of it, sure, but not much else beyond that. I haven’t cracked open “Elantris” since early February. I haven’t written a chapter of Rainbow Ranch since January. I haven’t written a chapter of Beautiful Monster since last year. Last! Year! I haven’t drawn a picture since February. Everything is piling up while I’m trapped in my own fucking head. Take it from me: being horny all the time isn’t the kind of fun that most incels and alpha males would make it out to be. It sucks. It absolutely fucking sucks. How much longer do I have to wait for my brain to recalibrate? Patience is not one of my virtues, in case it wasn’t abundantly clear. So if you ask me what my plans are for the day, I’ve got none. My schedule is clear, but my head is not. I’m counting down the days when this bullshit will end. Thanks for listening to me for a while. Sorry if me talking about sex makes you feel uncomfortable.

Temptation

PART ONE: TEMPTATION IN HEAVEN

In my head, there is only heaven

The angels here are stuff of legends

Manic Pixie Dream Girls don’t exist

Except in a euphoric state of bliss

 

Lovely teachers in dresses and sandals

More than my chemicals could ever handle

They catch me staring and only smile back

Give them some wine and help them relax

 

Whoever said You Tube isn’t eHarmony

Never met the angels that are charming me

Closing distance with hugs and kisses

A future with all of them as my missus

 

When wrestling women get done in the ring

They turn up the sweetness and make my heart sing

They’re more than the skimpy gear that they wear

They’re reasons to stroke their soft silky hair

 

It doesn’t matter if I’m weird or lack money

They call me cupcake and call me honey

I get to be a star and then kiss the sky

Kiss magical women and make them cry

 

TELEVISION DIALOGUE

“Heaven? Hmph! Whatever made you think you were in heaven, Mr. Valentine? This IS the other place!”

 

PART TWO: THE AWAKENING

I spent too long in my own fantasies

The real world has so much they’re asking me

Family and friends haven’t seen me in weeks

My clothes are piling up, my body reeks

 

I got work to do and a legacy to build

I’m still creative and I’ll die on that hill

These novel characters are stuck in limbo

While I spent my days with imagined sex symbols

 

Read a book and your ignorance will die

But I can’t find the energy, can’t find the time

Drifting in and out of consciousness

Another reason to be lacking confidence

 

Build Legos like I did when I was a kid

I’m still a kid, but just a little bit mid

My hall of fame is showing its shame

When my broken promises are all the same

 

Do chores around the house, make it clean

Your domestic mistakes should be heard and not seen

Scrub the dishes and take out the garbage

For god’s sake, it should smell like a botanical garden

 

Talk to your people, talk to your pets

One chance in this life is all you get

Tell them you love them no matter what

Save them from your pain that deeply cuts

 

PART THREE: BACK TO HELL

I’m exiled from heaven, but I can’t go back to hell

The demons were the reason I was so unwell

Fighting and fucking, two sides of a coin

Stroking the tip before a kick in the groin

 

I fought so many battles with the forces of hell

That they’re often too traumatic, I shouldn’t tell

Screams, rage, death, blood

Spending so many nights face down in the mud

 

I’m just too tired to keep swinging my axe

I wish there was some sort of therapy tax

I wish there was somebody that I could ask

To kill the demons for me, but don’t let it last

 

I was born in the fire and I’ll never retire

It was never a reason for me to be a crier

Suck it up, suck it in, get back in the cage

Until I hit senior citizen age

 

If I live that long, my brain will turn to shit

And my hospital gown will be a perfect fit

Go under the knife for the rest of my life

As the memories fade of an imaginary wife

Final Fantasy

VERSE 1

Magical woman says, “I did a line of cocaine

It numbs all the pain in my outer space brain”

Magical woman says, “They hate my penis

They either shout shit at me or pay me to see it”

Magical woman says, “I haven’t showered in weeks

Every shirt I’ve worn is covered in blood streaks”

Magical woman says, “You have very pretty eyes

Is it okay if I look into them for the rest of the night?”

 

PRE-CHORUS 1

“Hold my hand, touch my face

Please take me away from this dark place

Hold me tight, touch my hair

Please help me, I’m scared”

 

CHORUS 1

Who am I kidding? It’s a final fantasy

In the real world, magic women run away from me

It’s a place in my head, got no choice but to stay

Waste my time on limerence, throwing my life away

 

VERSE 2

Lonely bohemian says, “I stole things that aren’t mine

Everyone online made me pay for my crime”

Lonely bohemian says, “I don’t want to be alone

But I’m the only one who was asked to atone”

Lonely bohemian says, “Let me live another day

In case you’re wondering, no, I’m not okay”

Lonely bohemian says, “Can I stay with you tonight?

You’re the only one right now who’s keeping me alive”

 

PRE-CHORUS 2

“Kiss my lips, rub my back

Please protect me from all these attacks

Hold my hand, lay with me

Please don’t let me bleed”

 

CHORUS 2

Snap out of it, son, it’s a final fantasy

Brain ghosts shouldn’t even be asking me

To do emotional labor, save you from the haters

Of all the candies you chose, I’m not your first flavor

 

BRIDGE

I got so much to do, so much to live for

But magical thinking keeps me wanting more

It’s a cycle of addiction no different from crack

Lock myself in my room, don’t know when I’ll be back

 

VERSE 3

Magical woman meets lonely bohemian

Two twin flames, two lovely human beings

Do what you must in your hotel room

Get out of my head and do it fucking soon

Get married, have babies, buy a whole house

Watch a lot of Netflix on your leather couch

My work here is done, now I watch for number one

Ain’t no mystery in this land, it’s all in my hands

Love From a Safe Distance

VERSE 1

The roads are closed, nowhere to go

Bury my eyes in the blue light glow

Watching her talk with an angel’s voice

About democracy and being pro-choice

I hang on her words in a loving embrace

Rosy pink cheeks and a grin on my face

Call it simping or whatever you please

Excuse me while I sigh in a gentle breeze

PRE-CHORUS

When I went to bed

She stayed in my head

And this is what she said

CHORUS 1

I live in Canada and I love you

Buy a plane ticket and dinner for two

We can dance in the city streets

Nervous? I’ll wrap you in flannel sheets

None of my fans should ever be alone

It’s time for you to shed that heart of stone

You wake up and find I was never there

But parasocial love just can’t compare

VERSE 2

She reads my favorite books, writes some of her own

In an army of fan boys, I never feel alone

Brought together by the diamonds in her eyes

But only one of us will get past the other guys

She’s got a husband and needs nobody else

But we can still try to be lovers ourselves

We could head to the bar, maybe touch some grass

“Notice me, Senpai! I’m your favorite in class!”

PRE-CHORUS

When I went to bed

She stayed in my head

And this is what she said

CHORUS 2

I live in England and I love you

Cross the waters if you love me too

We can hold hands in the scary darkness

Rest your head in my lap, listen to pop artists

I’m sorry you spend your nights all alone

But I’m a call away on the telephone

You wake up and find it was all a dream

The coldness of it all makes you want to scream

BRIDGE

This isn’t E-Harmony, that’s what they all say

It’s not Plenty of Fish, so get the hell away

It’s not Tinder, don’t think she’s here to play

She doesn’t know you nor would she want to

CHORUS 3

I live in Australia and I love you

I never said that, so don’t call me a prude

Get some medication, not a worldwide vacation

Stay in your own cozy little bitty nation

I’ll block you forever, so this is goodbye

I don’t even know why you had to try

To get in my life, I’m already a wife

Sorry for your broken dreams and mockery memes

Limerence

“…”

Do you hear that? That is the sound of absolutely nobody being shocked by the news that I experience limerence on a daily basis. It is a condition defined as obsessively imagining romance with someone I have a crush on. Cigarettes taste like shit. Alcohol tastes like an entire outhouse. Heroin and cocaine are even worse for the brain than those two things put together. Limerence is my drug of choice because it costs nothing and it helps me cope with the stresses of life, whether it’s the pandemic blues or schizophrenia eating me alive long before that. Instead of traumatic memories, limerence gives me lovey-dovey scenarios to think about. One of these things is not like the other. A night of laying my head in a woman’s lap while she strokes my hair is very much preferable over reliving every insult that’s ever been said to me.

Who am I currently experiencing limerence for? A lot of women, not just one or two. I feel much more comfortable saying the names of super-famous celebrities than I do of You Tubers and people I know online. Celebrities don’t have time to read my social media posts whereas a You Tuber will know exactly who I am and will hit that block button with cat-like reflexes. To be fair to the You Tubers, how would you feel if you learned that a three hundred pound man who lives with his parents and is currently unemployed thought of you in an obsessively romantic way? While beauty is always in the eye of the beholder, I have a feeling it would be creepy no matter who I was. I could have flowing blond locks and abs that would make a great bulletproof vest. I could be a billionaire who cheats on my taxes, but never on my limerent object. It would still be creepy as fuck.

But what about the celebrities who have no time for me? What about the fictional characters who will never be offended by my romantic thoughts because they’re not even real? Well, that depends on what time period you’re talking about. In the late 90’s, it was Cammy White from Super Street Fighter II. In the mid 2000’s, it was Motoko Kusanagi from Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex. For the rest of the 2000’s, it was Tarja Turunen, the ex-lead singer from Nightwish. In 2018, it was Sarah-Jane Redmond, the actress who played Lucy Butler from Millennium. In the present day, it’s a bunch of lovely You Tubers whose names will go unchecked due to the fact that they might be reading this.

I’m sure none of you want to Google the names I did mentioned. After all, I’m supposed to be showing instead of telling when I write these nonfiction pieces. But there are many common threads among the women I’ve named and haven’t named. They’re beautiful, of course, but not just physically. They have something about them that keeps my limerent mind coming back for more. It could be the intelligence of political discourse, giving safe spaces and love in equal measures. It could be the wisdom of passionate fairytale storytelling, the paladin conquering the ogre and the dragons protecting the elven kingdoms. It could be the talent of singing like an angel from heaven itself, turning the phone book into sensual lyrics. It could be the strength of a warrior who will protect and mother any man she falls in love with. It could be the uncanny knack of seducing men just by being themselves, declaring love and giving kisses to calm the most nervous of men.

Anybody can be physically attractive. Anybody can have ruby red lips that taste like cherry pie, skin that’s soft and arousing to the touch, and hair that when stroked would leave both of your scalps tingling with pleasure. But if someone is physically attractive whilst being a shallow jerk, then that’s a huge turn-off. Nicole Arbour is physically attractive, but because of her fat-shaming rhetoric (“sweating Crisco” and “being unhealthy”), abusive behavior towards past boyfriends (punching faces and isolation from friends and family), and right-wing ignorance (white victimhood and minority bashing), she angers instead of seduces.

Another common thread among my limerent women is that none of my romantic fantasies about them have ever turned sexual. I would never want to taint them in that way. So instead, I imagine them squeezing my shoulders in a relaxing massage, sending tingles throughout my body. I imagine laying my head in their lap while they play with my hair, sending even more tingles throughout my body. I would do the same for them occasionally and earn a few swooning moans. I imagine giving them foot massages that make them close their eyes and drift off into dreamland, probably dreaming about being fed strawberries and cream like a goddess. I imagine laying in bed next to them, not for sex, but for the warmth of cuddling and the peacefulness of sleep. We could even have “A Pillow of Winds” by Pink Floyd playing in the background to accentuate this moment of love. 

These fantasies are especially important to me during moments of sadness and schizophrenic torment. Who wouldn’t want Chun Li from Street Fighter II squeezing their shoulders and lifting them up from a pit of despair? Mild, inoffensive touching at its finest. We could even hold hands together while walking through the desolate streets of either Port Orchard or Seattle. The warmth of her hand and the softness of her fingers would definitely feel good to me when I’m nervous at night. Of course, I would still be nervous about this beautiful lady wanting anything to do with me, but it’s not the same as feeling the danger of Seattle’s cyberpunk atmosphere.

I held off on talking about this topic as long as I could. I’ve already mentioned not wanting to gross anybody out with my lovey-dovey thoughts. But more importantly than that, I didn’t want to be written off as a whiny incel. For all intents and purposes, someone like me would fit in nicely with that clique. I’m overweight, a shy virgin, unemployed, and a lifelong tenant with my parents. I check all the boxes except for one: I’m not a misogynist who believes I’m entitled to free sex. Women owe me absolutely nothing. If they like me, fine. If not, then there’s nothing I can do about it. I certainly would never go on a shooting spree at a lingerie store or yoga studio. I wouldn’t run over random pedestrians with a van over my inability to be attractive. That’s just a LITTLE extreme, in my opinion.

Sometimes limerence is only a fantasy that will never come true. Sometimes we have to accept that we’re not right for everyone. Not everybody deserves a lifetime of cuddling and hot sex with Wonder Woman. Not everybody deserves a shoulder massage and passionate kisses from Tifa Lockhart. And you know what? That’s okay. If we got whatever we wanted all day every day, life would be boring as hell. There’d be no excitement or realism. If everybody is sexy, nobody is sexy. If everything is romantic, nothing is romantic. All the good things in life will come in moderation, which seems cliché to say until you do take it to the extreme and completely fuck up your life because of it. You hear that, Jake Davison? Of course you don’t, because you’re dead.

So why do I have limerent fantasies about people I don’t stand a chance with? Wouldn’t it be easier just for me to go out and meet somebody, pandemic aside? Well, that’s where the shyness and lack of confidence comes in. I don’t enjoy being creepy and I can see if me flirting with a woman would be perceived that way, no matter how mild or harmless it may seem. Being rejected by someone who thinks I’m creepy sounds like the worst kind of pain there is. It’s actually been scientifically proven that romantic rejection activates the same receptors of the brain as physical pain. It’s not as easy as moving onto the next one. It hurts. It can hurt for weeks, months, even years, especially if you’re like me and you’re neurodivergent. Autistic people generally feel pain at a higher capacity than neurotypicals. Criticism and rejection are both necessary parts of life, but goddamn, do they hurt worse than getting kicked in the testicles.

So what do I do about this? Stay in the shadows and partake in the drug known as limerence, of course. What else would I do? Why bother with someone who’s guaranteed to hate me when I’ve got Anette Olzon scratching her nails down my back and setting off my ASMR triggers? Why put myself through unnecessary pain when I’ve got Amy Lee slow-dancing with me at the prom, whispering sweetness in my ear and kissing my cheeks while doing so? Not a tough decision, as you can see. While loneliness may suck and limerence will always be fake, it beats the emotional trauma of rejection any day of the week. This makes me sound like an incel, I’m sure, but mark my words: I despise that ideology and want nothing to do with people who conform to that label. Maybe I’m not that creepy after all? Nah! Of course I am! Lzzy Hale, here I come! What flavor of ice cream sandwich do you want: vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, or all three at once?