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I feel used. I feel maniuplated. I feel walked on.

You know, after all is said and done, i have once again been made out to be the idiot and everyone could see it but me. I let love blind me, and then cripple me after it stabbed me in the back.
I spent so much time letting you tear me down, making me feel worthless, making me feel like i was beaneath you. I was so stupid.
I'm so happy now that i have finally figured it out.
What i thought was love was empty and fake. The person i thought you were, emtpy and fake.
I'm not sure how long you expected this charade to last before i figured it out. Before i saw you for who you really were... "The angel under a sea of black umbrellas". Mr. Perfect. The Know it all. The one that claimed to be so innocent, that had the most to hide.

I have never claimed to be perfect and i know that the majority of our break up was my fault. But when you laugh in my face and basically tell me my feeling are worthless to you, your lucky smashing your face into that wall was all i did. For someone with nothing, and is just starving for someone to listen to him and understand him, my feeling are all i have, and if that means nothing to you, it's like stabbing me in the heart while you smile in my face.

I hope your new Boyfriend knows how you begged to be with me for the last 2 weeks. I hope he knows that he was the fallback guy. (i have all the text messages you sent me to prove it and i'll save them all just for him if he does believe it, god knows your already preaching a boatload of bullshit to him also)

And now that i'm gone, i want you to notice, i want you to remember what you'll be missing...all of my love. Its gone and never coming back. I hate you. If you were dying in the street i wouldn't help you, i would only take a second to look while i spit in your face as i walk over you, that is all your worth to me now. I thought porn was my biggest regret in this life, but it not, Its you. If fact lets pretend it never happened. You and me never happened.

Just yesterday a friend of mine was arrested for possession of marijuana - one ounce. Fingers crossed she gets off lightly. In the meantime my head was filled with mad, windmill-tilting thoughts. Perhaps this is best viewed as comedy, or if you'd rather, as proof that smoking marijuana renders one imbecilic.


Your Worship,

May I have a few minutes of the court's time to express an acknowledgement of my crime? Yes? I thank the court. Because it is clear that I have failed. That the police have spent time and money bringing me here, and that the court has devoted its own very valuable time to my case, is proof of this.

My prime failure is my inability to reconcile two understandings. The first is an historical one, to wit, America's prohibition of alcohol in the thirties. This famously failed on account its criminalising of otherwise law-abiding citizens and its enrichment of true criminals, who in turn, unsurprisingly, used this wealth to corrupt those ordered with enforcing the law. Not forgetting the debasement of the law in the eyes of those citizens newly deemed criminal. And all of this to no useful effect.

And the second understanding is that the prohibition of marijuana seems barely to differ from this.

Any decent citizen would be able to hold both of these thoughts in their head simultaneously and think nothing of it. That I am unable to do so reflects poorly on me and renders me as (how shall I put it?) 'the wrong sort of fellow'.

I do not wish to lay blame on others for my failure. It is not the fault of my education, nor of my parents, nor of society. The fault lays entirely with me. Numerous people, including the police, have, in a spirit of helpfulness, attempted to correct me in this matter. But perversely I have refused to concede to the rightness of their thinking - the rightness of holding two contradictory thoughts at once.

Clearly this renders me at odds with decent society. I appreciate that were everyone in society as wilful as me, things would quickly degenerate. In this mad dystopia I would have us live in, the law under which I am charged would be done away with, and criminals like me would be able to openly walk the streets, wander into a liquor store and purchase two joints of a Friday evening. Dreadful - that I, a criminal, should be rendered law-abiding, that the criminals who profit from marijuana should lose their income (indeed that the government would derive tax from these sales), and that everything taking place here today should be made unnecessary, is a mad thought from which all here rightly recoil.

Except for me, Your Worship. In this I fail. Further, that I should choose not to be fearful of the repercussions of holding to such views is condemnable. May I say, that the police have done the right thing and attempted to impress upon me where such thinking leads to. As one constable said to me (if the court will forgive me for quoting directly) - 'You fucking smart-arse cunt, see how fucking clever you are when you're in Boggo Road copping it up the arse!' I thank the police for this lesson in fear and apologise for my obtuseness in learning it.

As I apologise to the court also. That the court should have it's time wasted by jumped-up nobodies like me who imagine that they should determine the rightness of a thing by means beyond those prescribed by statute, is criminal in and of itself. That I obey all other laws, and concede their rightness, and otherwise qualify as a law-abiding citizen (and have done so for my entire life), is no excuse. Indeed, I have no excuse, Your Worship. I have failed and I admit it. I ask nothing for myself and submit to the court's better judgement.

Your worship, I thank the court for its time.

It's easy being a social darwinist. The strong destroy the weak. Confirmation for this is found throughout nature. The most successful creatures are the bloodiest. The kings of the animal world are those at the top of the food chain, which is to say the predators. How we admire them! They are the most perfect examples of the undeniable proof of Darwin's dictum about 'survival of the fittest'. It is only right and proper that we should emulate their behaviour. God forbid we should emulate their victims.

And you won't find a bigger fan of Charles Darwin than yours truly. I am privileged to have him sit on my left shoulder and whisper in my ear. And I always listen. His explanation for human behaviour (amongst other things) is never wrong. But what's that Charles? You never used the phrase 'survival of the fittest'? Apparently it was some other fellow's words. Apparently Darwin put it in the foreword of his second edition of 'Origin of the Species' and regrets it. Had he known that it would come to encapsulate, and misrepresent, his description of the behaviour of species he wouldn't have touched it with a barge pole.

Darwin does not extol particular kinds of behaviour. Certainly he demands that any species (or indeed any entity) that wishes to self perpetuate must ensure the viability of its offspring. Viability here means that its offspring must be able to do what it just did, ie. produce more offspring. Beyond this he ceases to care. If humans, say, have a tendency to go mad after the age of forty or so, and this does not screw with the viability of their offspring (whom one presumes are already adult), well that's fine with him. Alternatively, if humans can better assist their offspring by living to old age, Darwin gives this his blessing too. It's all good, provided each generation is capable of ensuring the viability of those they in turn give birth to. It's as simple as that.

So where does the 'fittest' come in? To be perfectly honest, it doesn't. If creatures can ensure the viability of their offspring and yet somehow fail in the 'fitness' stakes (whatever that is) Darwin doesn't give a shit. Under Darwin they are successful, regardless. A few years back, scientists discovered a mushroom-like fungus that lived underground and occupied an area so large it spanned several countries. Belgium was one I recall (Hey Miraculix, you're probably standing on it mate). The scientists declared that this was, in all probability, the largest living creature in the world, weighing in at thousands of tons. It leaves the blue whale for dead. It is also the oldest living creature, having been there for countless millennia. That this entity has persisted, in spite of ice ages, warm spells, you name it, means that Darwin gives it his blue ribbon for excellence.

Indeed, every creature that copes with environmental depredations and ensures the viability of its offspring gets this blue ribbon. Darwin has no favourites. He is no more interested in the 'food chain' than he is in my motorcycle's drive chain. If Darwin was the judge of a beauty contest he would declare that any of the contestants who can get laid is the winner. Can you dig it? Darwin has no favourites. He does not say that this is better than that. Thus if lions can avoid having their jaw broken by the flashing heels of a springbok, and go on to catch one and ensure the viability of their offspring, Darwin pops a champagne cork. And likewise, if springboks have the ability to break a lion's jaw and bring about its death then the lion's depredations will be kept to a wary minimum. Thus, the springbok's continuance is assured, and Darwin jams a cigar in its mouth (not that the springbok would care for it, but you get the idea). The lion and the springbok are equal in the eyes of Darwin. They both get the blue ribbon and 'fittest' ain't nowhere to be seen.

And then there's the bowerbird. Ha! You thought I'd forgotten. The bowerbird is really singular. He's so called because he builds a 'bower' - an elaborate structure of twigs, variously decorated with flowers, leaves, berries, rocks, shells, and, lately, bits of modern plastic detritus (blue straws and bottle tops being particularly popular). The bower serves no purpose beyond appealing to the female. It is not a nest - the female builds the nest separately and lays eggs there. Nor does the bower provide shelter. It is merely, believe it or not, the male's expression of artistic intent, for no purpose other than impressing the female. It is literally a work of art. Astoundingly no two bowers are the same. Each is a unique expression of the male's sense of the sublime (I avoid the word 'unique' like the plague, but here it is true). The female likewise will choose the male by means of her own artistic taste. And Darwin? He claps his hands and laughs with delight.


Where's the 'survival of the fittest' here? What sort of 'fittest' consists of being the greatest artist? The truth is that 'fittest' is bullshit. Social darwinists are dimwits who utterly fail to understand Darwin. Predators, such as lions and tigers, represent the tiniest fraction of the uncountable number of creatures every single one of which receives Darwin's unconditional blessing.

We humans differ from the rest of creation insofar as we are able to choose how we behave. We may choose the means by which we obey the truth of Darwin. Neither lions, nor springboks, nor any other creature can do this. Nor can they influence others to wonder at themselves and how they might fulfil Darwin's imperatives and make the world a better place while they're at it. Only we can have a discussion as to how this might be done. It's what sets us apart and makes us singular. To those social darwinists too dim to appreciate the spectacular array of possibilities the world presents us, I say - be that stupid four-legged beast red in tooth and claw. Just leave Darwin out of it. Darwin does not think you're special. He has no more time for you than he does for a happy, little, art-mad bowerbird.

The blog is a double edge sword.


As much as this blog has been a release for me it has also given to many people, to much insight into my personal world. You know it hard enough trying to start new relationships being a pornstar but I'm finding it even harder to do with a blog out there discussing what a fucking mess i am. I'm sure its hard enough for guys to see past the fact i do porn, and then this is out there? Its like meeting a new guy and being able to research all his flaws online. I'm helping people choose to walk away from me before even giving me a chance.

You know everyone has their certain level of bullshit they never tell anyone. Your friends, your Bf, your family members, they all have a dark side. But they all sleep fine at night cause they do their best at keeping whatever their perversion or dirty little secret, basically just that, by keeping it a secrete. This blog is all my dirty secrets and this is all my bullshit compiled, for all to read. It has let the freaks in and has kept anyone of value, away. I'm tired of it.

Its funny that two of the main topics of this blog, "love" and "my personal space" are two of the major things in my life that this blog is destroying. You know, as much as this depression has sucked, its opening my eyes (that's like my favorite line for this blog). When i have this guy try and kiss me and make me feel totally uncomfortable, i have to say to myself, "this is my fault"... i let this person in. When i have a guy approach me at the gym, grab my chest and whisper personal information in my ear, i have to say to myself. "this is my fault"... i let this person in.
I try and smile and laugh it off cause I'm sure they might not know what they are doing, maybe they do, either way, it make me feel like I'm sinking, its feels like I'm drowning, standing there on solid ground and it all my fault but its made me realize that I am the one causing my depression.

I guess what I'm trying to say is there has to be a change, and its honestly starting to look like the end of this blog. Its become more of a problem then a solution. Its only making me feel more and more empty. Its only making people look at me worse then they already do.
You know, when i see people whisper about me when i walk into a bar, I'm not sure what they are whispering about anymore, the porn or the mess from the blog? I could barely handle one, i don't need two.

So I'm not sure what gonna happen, i guess we'll just have to wait and see if i can handle keeping my thoughts to myself and if i can't, do contines writing and just water it down? Do I just just make this into another garbage porn star blog? Or do i just walk away all together... I'm torn cause this blog has reached out to so many people and i get emails all the time about it from people saying "dude, i feel the same way", and it always is a relief to feel like I'm not the only one out there like this but when do i draw the line inn the sand and say this is where it has to end, this is where i finally figure myself out and just leave everything else behind?

You know, i just want my certain level of bullshit also...

Oh man, it was just too beautiful.

But first an explanation. Regulars like Kikz and Tony know this story, but newer arrivals might be somewhat unfamiliar. This blog was not so long ago plagued by a one-note racist arsehole called Apollonian. He would endlessly urge us to embrace racism and 'Jew expulsion', whatever that is. He had two 'either/or' modes - sycophancy or character assassination. Me, I said lots of things to Apollonian. I told him he was mad. I told him he couldn't write for shit. And I told him that if he didn't exist, the Jews would have invented him anyway.


Anyway I banned him. He didn't care for this and spent a great deal of time and energy heaping shit on me over at Les Visible's smoking mirrors and Curt Maynard's blog. Finally Les banned him as well. Curt however embraced Apollonian to his bosom and would regularly post his mad unintelligible gibberish on the front page. Curt is a white supremacist doncha know.

Every now and then I google myself. It's not that interesting. When Mike Rivero used to link to me it was a blast but lately it's dull and I don't bother much. But I did it the other week and there seemed to be a link I didn't recognise. It was to Curt's blog, but, lo and behold, there was no Curt's blog. Curtmaynardsblog had been disappeared. Blogspot had blitzed him on account of, gee, I don't know... ugliness? Ha ha ha. Not that I was upset or anything, but I had intended to pop a note in the comments here just in case the people who'd been shat on there were interested.

But there he was back on WRH yesterday with an article entitled 'Why if they can censor Curt Maynard, Nobody's safe.' Chronically bad grammar aside, you'll be completely unsurprised that I thought this was brilliant. I headed straight over and, to hell with the article, piled into the comments and wrote how much I loved his headline. Well you can't blame me can you?

The article itself was dreary. It was him telling us how brave he is. Only he has the cojones to use words like 'nigger' and 'wetback'. Racist filth aside, it did have its lighter moments. To make his case for the rightness of calling black people 'niggers' he used the best analogy since sliced bread was run up the flagpole without a paddle.

Apparently, Curt is an adult and when he needs to urinate or defecate he doesn't say 'number one' or 'number two', therefore why should he use euphemisms when discussing 'niggers'? Surely I'm not the only one who gets the beauty of this analogy? (Curt mate, a word of advice - when you use analogies it pays to think them through. Had you done this you would have realised you just compared your use of racist language to you shitting and pissing. Not that I'm complaining. I reckon you precisely described your contributions to making the world a better place.)

But it gets better. The piece linked by WRH is the fifth in the new blog. Below it, the first post briefly announces his return and ends with the following passage -

"One thing you'll never again see at my newest blog are any "apollonian" articles, if that's what you can call them. When I have time later, I'll write up an expose revealing what a kike this guy is. In the past when I was posting some of his unreadable essays, I've had to reject many of them based upon threats he inserted in them out of concern that the threats would enable blogger to censor my blog. I'd bet money that I missed a few of these threats and that the bastard himself reported his own essays to blogger and had my last blog shut down.

No matter, apollonian won't be missed by me, or anyone else."

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Crack me up!

And Curt thinking that Apollonian's task was to shut him down means that he still doesn't get it. Apollonian's task wasn't to put out the fire. It was merely to pour more petrol on it. And here's Curt announcing he can do this perfectly well on his own. I shake my head.

So i have come to a point in my life of just pure confusion.


I pace back and forth in my apartment. Waiting. Only to realize I'm lost. No one is coming and there is nowhere to go. I sit down and and try to figure it all out and i can't. I'm lost. I'm lost with in my friends, I'm lost within my own family and I'm jut lost within my own head.
Like this morning i wake up fighting demons. Calling every drug dealer i have in my phone in hopes to just get wasted all day long. Thanks to lazy drugs dealers no one returns my calls. Which is for the best, but what if i got hooked up on the first call i made? I'm sure as shit wouldn't be writing this blog. But is that where i wanna be? It was when i woke up. Its not now, but i can't figure out how kill the bad sides of me. I can't help feeling totally defeated and just wanting to give up.

I choose to stay in last night after getting completely ready to go out cause i knew i wouldn't be able to stomach socializing. I wanted to though. How the fuck am i ever gonna meet new people if i don't throw myself out there? Then i think, if i do go out I'll just have to get so fucked up to handle being around people, that I'm not gonna meet anyone new if the first place cause I'll just be the fucked up porn star in the corner that people look at and point at and don't want anything to do with. Thanks but no thanks. The discomfort of being alone is much easier to manage than that. I figured to myself, i could get up early, do the gym and be productive without feeling drug hungover and miserable. Well, i still wake up miserable. Everyday i wake up miserable and one of these days soon I'm just gonna give up. I am not strong enough to deal with this life anymore, i made myself into this pathetic, shadow of a human. I'm so disconnected, just living each day to the next, i feel like a bum. You know, what drives a bum to live each day? Nothing, they just keep waking up on the street and saying "damn, another day, please god, would a cab run me the fuck over today". I feel the same way.

anyways,

It was funny, the other day i got a message on myspace from a guy that goes to my gym. The message was the typical, "your hot" bullshit that normally doesn't get someone a response, but i knew that the guy was from my gym so i responded and told him that i see him at the gym and how i thought it was funny how many guys that go there, that look like they hate me and won't give me the time of day that end up hitting me up on a website like myspace to talk. ( wow talk about a run-on sentence) To which he responded "well you are who you are and if i came up to talk to you people might talk". This drove me crazy. Like who the fuck am i? and who are you afraid to talk to? The slut pornstar, the depressed asshole self loathing blog writer, the funny guest host on D&R that isn't afraid to tell all the listeners when he shit his pants or maybe I'm the self absorbed ego maniac your friend said he saw at a bar. Whatever it maybe, Am i that far damaged that i can't get people to say hello, a smile, anything? I just get the fucking emails saying "well I'm afraid to talk to you since you are who you are, and as much as i think your hot, your not worth knowing in public". All i can think as i have over analyzed this conversation is "god, I'm sure people would talk to James, if they just gave him a chance". But i feel as much as i try and push the real me out, all anyone ever see's is Erik. Its starting to fuck with my head. Its starting to hurt.

I went to see my family yesterday. I can't help to think they read this blog and have started to feel bad for me. All the "i love yous and we are here for yous". But are you really? A good four years past where i was at my lowest and you weren't around then? But now that i spell it out for you in this blog, you understand me. I'm sorry, its not that easy. God, you should see me at these family gatherings, i feel like I'm oozing bullshit. I personally love it when the little kiddies ask me what kind of model i am and when family friends seem to sneak extra pictures of me cuz they don't know the truth yet. Oh what a disappointment i am.

I know this blog sounds so pathetic, and i am such a fucking broken record. its the same crying bullshit all the time from me. I'm sorry. I'm tired of it as much as you and i'm working on getting myself healthcare insurance, cuz i can't do this anymore. Something has finally clicked off and i dont think i'm gonna be able to turn it back on myself. My back is hurting from the weight thats on top of me and i just wanna breathe again. I dont wanna be this person anymore.