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On one end of the planet sits society. On the other end sits me. It has always been this way.

When I wake up in the morning, theres a dead world waiting for me. So I sleep until the crust seals my eyes shut. When the angry sunlight finally forces them open again, the trouble begins.

"Don't you like anything?" the idiots ask me. They must not know me very well. I like litters of newborn puppies and garbage cans filled with aborted fetuses. I like the sound of children in pain, I like people who are so misshapen by birth defectes, they don't even appear human anymore. I like loners who stand in corners at parties. I like family gatherings which devolve into fistfights. I like flesh-eating bacteria and the hantavirus. I like when old enemies slowly suffer. I like rain and cold and dark skies and being alone. I like listening to the clanging symphony of human frustration. I like to watch the world slowly implode , because it confirms my hunches from long, long ago, You may say that I'm merely being contrary but I think YOU'RE the disagreeable one.

My life has postponed its promise of deat. So I linger around, forcing YOU to suffer. I am here to rain on your parade. I am the dynamite which blasts through your bullshit. I am the pubic hair at the bottom of your soup bowl. I want you to cry at inappropriate moments and laugh when no one else does. I want you to feel suicidal around holidays. I want you to slice your skin open and cover the wounds when guests visit. I want you to lose everything except the knowledge that you have no personality.

What upsets me is that there are no guarantees in life. Good things happen, but they are taken away too quickly. The bad always outweighs the good.

Most of the people I liked are dead. Endless car crashes. Painful diseases. A boyfriend who was shot to death in Flatbush. Nothing lasts. My body will be destroyed by age like a butterscotch sucking candy being slowly dissolved. Life is punishment.

My death wish was evident in my birth. There I was, popping feet-first from my mothers c***, the umbilical cord tied nooselike around my neck. My face was blue until they revived me. A "blue baby." A morose infant. An unloved child, tossed into the bushes by the other kids. Smacked in the face with a baseball bat at seven years old. Smothered with a blanket and beaten with broomsticks by my summer-camp roommates. Bruises. Pain is my friend.

 

Growing up, I was a "behavioral problem." My parents gave up on me. So did everyone else. I was never one of the girls. The other Brownies hated me. I celebrated birthdays alone. Cried through the winter, spring, summer, and fall. Went through a boc of tissues every night. My tears dried and no one cared. Society was not to be trusted.

I grew from a crying child into a bitter adult. I've always felt hopeless and full of hatred. NEVER HAPPY. NEVER HAPPY. NEVER HAPPY. Therein lies my charm. Never popular. Never liked. When people asked me what I wanted to be, the most obvious answer was, "nothing."

My teen years were a mixture of parental sheltering and chemical excess. I'd sit alone in my bedroom, screaming off-key to Doors and Stooges songs. Rock 'n' roll depression. Bad weed. Bad acid. Bad hang-overs. Bad relationships. Bad attitude.
 

I'm autistic, not artistic. Society murders me. The gang always gangs up on me. When I'm surrounded by people, I drown. Ask anyone who's ever tried to talk to me. They'll tell you how bouncy and sociable I am. Not stuck-up, just stiff. Cold. Distant. Lost in an entirely different constellation.

In 1986 , Jimmy and I met at a Johnny Thunders concert in New York. I stopped hearing the music. Instant attraction. Two lonely people. Antisocial, psychotic misanthropes who would join forces against the world. We sat together on some steps, ignoring the concert. Ignoring everyone else. The rest of the world died that night.

"They should just drop a bomb and get it over with" I said to him. He agreed. When I looked in Jimmy's eyes, I saw the same hatred I had seen in the mirror my whole life. It was love. We bonded through doom.

As soon as we met each other, we tuned out the rest of the crowd. Everyone else was an intruder. We'd go on dates to cemeteries, junk-yards, and pentecostal churches. We fucked at tthe world's largest trash dump, located in Staten Island. We hung my used tampons and his used rubbers on our Christmas tree. We smoked crack (once) and then went to see a Catskills comedy revue. Elvis tribute nights and Jewish singles' dances. Ferris wheels and pro wrestlin g matches. On our first vacation together, we went to peep booths in Cleveland and toured Detroit's slims. Our own songs and catch phrases. Our own language. I told him I wanted to die. He told me he wanted to die. The only thing which stopped us was the fact that we'd miss each other too much.

Things fell into place like an avalanche. When it's just me and Jimmy, it's a party. Add another person, it's a funeral. Me and Jimmy. That's it. Driving through the desert at night. Or hiding up in the mountains. Anywhere away from you.

I value very few things in this cocksucking life, but honesty is one of them. We've never told a lie in ANSWER Me! That's why the posers and scene jockeys hate us so much--- their lives are a scummy snot-string of falsehoods. The liars are the enemies. They'll heave a sigh of relief when I die, because I force them to face themselves, which they hate to do.

I'm negative because there's so much that's worthy of negation. I don't add to the hatred in society, I merely clarify it all. Negativity has been the most positive force in my life. Astronomers know that this planet won't last. I've known it all along. It's high time that everyone else learned.

I take great courage in the fact that there's no hope for the world. I consider ANSWER Me! a public service. In years to come, perhaps people will acknowledge how right we were in seeing the crappiness in everything. But I doubt it. There will always be more of THEM than us. And there will only be a handful of you who will ever truly get it.

An invisible sheet of placenta still shields me from society. My eyes filter out the happiness and brightness that you see. I don't see it. I was born with death in my eyes, I'm blind to the lighter side. But you'll never be able to see the darkness quite as well as I can.

I have a filthy mouth and a clean conscience. A barren womb and a fertile imagination. A shitty attitude and a heart of gold. Keep your distance. If I want another friend, I'll get another cat. You've all disappointed me. You've let me down more than your soggy brains can comprehend. You failed my test. Where the fuck were you when I needed you?

-Debbie Goad
in ANSWER Me!: The First Three