I Disappointed
Written by:  Alex Sandell

I disappointed my brothers.
I disappointed my parents.
I disappointed my relatives.
I disappointed my doctors.
I disappointed my liver.
I disappointed my Priest.
I disappointed my Swami.
I disappointed my classmates.
I disappointed my friends.
I disappointed my Psychiatrist.
I disappointed my sanity.
I disappointed my fantasy.
I disappointed my employers.
I disappointed my girlfriends.
I disappointed my wife.
I disappointed my fans.
I disappointed my ISP.
I disappointed the bitch that wanted me to fuck her in the ass.
I disappointed my parent's basement.
I disappointed my treadmill.
I disappointed my jogging shoes.
I disappointed my body.
I disappointed my “ideal” weight.
I disappointed my kidneys. 
I disappointed my sense of responsibility.
I disappointed my father’s guns.
I disappointed my bottle of pills.
I disappointed my razor blades.  
I disappointed numerous abusive pigs.
I disappointed those of you waiting for chapter 7.
I disappointed the conformists.
I disappointed my dentist.
I disappointed my enemies.
I disappointed God Almighty.
I disappointed Mother Mary.
I disappointed Jesus Christ.
I disappointed Canada.
I disappointed Australia.
I disappointed Israel.
I disappointed America.
I disappointed my President.

I pleased myself.

I pleased my two dogs.

I pleased my tarantula.

I pleased my cat.

I pleased my sense of integrity.

I pleased the retarded boy who ran through the halls with an overstuffed backpack that was continually kicked off of his shoulders by bullies, when I spent an hour talking to him as a friend.

I pleased the lady that was going to kill herself, when I stayed up with her all night, and reminded her why she was important, even if it did take until 8 AM to convince her that she was worthwhile.

I pleased the bum who asked if I could “spare some change” when I took him to an expensive diner I couldn’t afford, and made him feel like a "real" human (the manager tried to remove him because he "stunk too bad," but I would have none of it).

I pleased the person who kept talking to himself at Embers’ restaurant when I told the snobby waitress to treat him as a human being, not a funny object to snicker at, with her fellow tip-desperate buddies.

I pleased the 370-pound guy that seemed to be in Perkins' bakery 24 hours a day when I said his artwork was beautiful, and he had a lot of potential. He said that, of all the nights he was there, I was the first person to talk to him, that hadn't actually waited on him.

I pleased the 280-pound woman in the “insane”-ward when I told her she was a hero to me, for standing her ground, and maintaining a sense of humor throughout all of the tragedy.

I pleased my friend Shawn’s parents when I let them know exactly how much his sister, and their daughter, meant to me, when she was living, and when she passed away. 

The rest of all y’all can fuck off.

You’re judgmental sick things, and I feel nothing for you.

I'll be pleased when you're dead. 

©2001 Alex Sandell [All Rights Reserved]

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