'did you see the memo?'

my silence disturbs me, though it is tough to write again. I really feel, right now, that is nothing that can be done to change my situation: I must bear the consequences, run the course, and eventuality (that motherfucker) will take its course...
I do know what I can do: I slept in today, called off work, and just rested until I wasn't tired anymore, such a strange feeling these days. I made breakfast, an omlette of onions, potatoes, and cheese, drank some orange juice and somehow along the way became enraged over the comments of a few old men:
The first was dinner with the devil (you may remember the man who told me to abort my child? yeah...). The second was a man Shannon dropped off at the airport today. Apparently I asked her to come to miami with her, offered her dinner, offered her anywhere in the world. Which, I guess, happens so I'll let it slide. What offended me was shannon's defense of him as a nice old man.
Nice old man? the motherfucker is a creep. He, in his fifties, offered her, at 21, what amounts to little more than payment for sex. Don't tell me he was looking for love, don't tell me he was just being nice. let's call a spade a spade and a creep a creep. That man is a creep. That man was abusing his power, and money (let us never forget money), in an attempt to score some pussy. Pussy from my fiance, but what about the million other sisters, daughters, and friends this man has propositioned. I am hesitant to say this was his first.... Very fucking hesitant.
It got me thinking about another issue: sex slaves, young girls, sometimes runaways, who are drugged, put into cages, and used as slaves. The idea sounds so ludicrous its hard to believe it exist and yet here is a man who is two steps away from rationalizing himself into giving it a try. That is of course if he's ever heard of it, he probably hasn't... he's got money.
We are surrounded by creeps and we say not a word. Why? convention? pragmatics? are we really so sure it won't make a difference?
This other man, this devil, is a friend of Shannon's family, a good friend. So I'll have to see him time and time again. I'll have to here him tell us not to get married, like he did last night, and have to stomach it again and again. Heaven forbid we ever get divorced, this man will feel so smug.
And yet I shut my mouth, swallow my pride, and avoid a comfrontation. I can do this, I can silence my self, but what I can't do is listen to him, some ten minutes later, talk about puting mescaline in jello shots at his frat so that the women would get naked.
I couldn't keep quiet so I made a snide remark about the days before 'date rape'. He laughed, the mother fucker thought I was making a joke. I should of beat him, I should smashed his fucking face, I should of made him feel sorry for ever taking advantage of any woman in his life... and yet I swallowed my silence in discomfort one last time... one last time and now I'm the one who is sinning...
What is going to happen one day when I flip on this guy? He's not even going to see it coming, he's going to have a hard time understanding, where I am coming from.... he'll never even understand, and I'll just make it worse for everyone involved...
It makes me so sick...
I feel like a failure for not fighting woman's rights, hell people's rights, right there in the pizza parlor... and I am right I am to blame... and yet my silence offers me comfort. I keep telling my self what I would change, and I keep coming up with nothing.

These events, my friends, are far more disconcerting, my silence destroying me, than any other that have befallen me: I know better and yet I choose to ignore.
I know better and yet I choose to forgive, or place some patience in the future.
I know better and I don't do a damn thing.
Goddammit I know better