I saw my name once again being whipped in one facebook wall by some guy whom I haven’t met, haven’t known, and certainly haven’t heard of in my entire life. He was so angry and I’m wondering what the hell his sorry ass wanted to accomplish by doing such a stunt. Ah yes… his mission is to indirectly make himself famous or just feel good because he can trash my name all over the internet while I am not aware of it. Nice move actually. This is what we fighters call sucker punching; attacking your target while they are not aware.
So I did what every educated man would do, instead of writing a comment on that no life thread, I sent a private message to the person concerned. I introduced myself properly and asked him directly what his pussy is aching about. He denied his participation in the thread even though it was obviously there with his account name clearly displayed. I understood his sentiments as he also wishes to become a real man like me. Something that he can’t be despite having a cock and and an adam’s apple.
I do not mean that he is gay. Coz sometimes, inside a gay’s heart rests a real man who can be trusted to show courage and willingness to face life’s challenges. I am talking about my attacker as being a faggot. While a gay is a man with a woman’s heart and often falls in love with a real man, a faggot is a man who hates another man for no reason at all except for just being a real man.
I took the time to find this faggot and got the chance to face him. Seriously, at that moment, he displayed a character of a very insecure half-man instead of that tough mother f*cker running his mouth online. And guess what? They are all the same. I have come face to face with a lot of my haters whom I have not known in my life, and in my presence, they all displayed that same humble posture as if they were babies who need milk from mama’s breast.
The last time I faced another hater in his own home, with his father by his side, it was the same kind of situation. The father of my hater invited me to have a discussion after poor Daddy got worried that his son might either get ran over by a big Harley Davidson or by a 4X4 truck. I assured poor, worried, daddy that his son does not deserve to die in such a classy manner. I mean, why use expensive vehicles to run over a big horse shit, when all it needs is to come over, show up, and give him an ultimate panic attack.
Each one of us needs a certain “balance” in our lives. The Yin and the Yang. The Positive and Negative energies must work together to attain harmony. Critics are there to keep us striving for perfection. If we are surrounded only by good people with kind words and none of those real perception of what we are, something is not right. But then, it is a different thing when somebody has a mission to destroy us. In my experience, my haters are my success thermometer. When one of them pops out, it is understood that somebody wanted to catch up. I knew right away that I am miles ahead.
Haters will always try to destroy the road ahead of you because one more inch forward from your boots can only hurt them. Although there are people who does nothing but hate, well, that’s a different story. They’re all about being faggot, and I can’t have a better definition of this word but “men with dicks who hates men with better dicks who can use their heads intelligently”. So if it’s a woman being a faggot, the definition will be easier; “A woman who wants to have a cock and hates any man or woman who has one”.
I remembered Carlos Celdran and the many haters who can form a line from one end of the earth and all the way to the moon. How sad that the actual line is only as long as a few meters. Keyboard warriors who hate themselves for not accomplishing much in their lives can turn a spoon of sugar into a well of salt by looking at the mirror and spotting a loser, and would blame it on someone whom they wished to become.
Face to face with my hater for the nth time, I can only blurt out “that was you?… hahaha…” The poor son of a bitz wanted to do a sucker punch. But how? I see a small insect trapped in a bigger insect’s body. But still an insect anyway. He can no longer hide under the couch called cyberworld. And so I asked “why?… what wrong thing did I do to you?…” and his response was simple; Silence. Had I met him in another place and in a different way, I could’ve bought him a new pair of shoes, seeing that his was crying for help. He noticed that I was looking at his feet. We were both wearing the same brand, it’s Crocs… only his was a bootleg, and mine was from the shop itself. So I looked at him in the eyes and I said… “I guess I paid more to get the real thing”.
A nice reaction coming from a sucker puncher. Such a pity that he can’t make himself be somebody outside the walls of an internet cafe. (captured in iPhone5)