I find myself living in a constant state of confusion. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it can at times grow tiresome. However, the confusion can at times actually be inspiring.
I'm currently listening to a Justin Timberlake song. This may not mean much to most people, but to me it is almost an awe inspiring experience. This man, once a boy whom I despised for no good reason other that his membership in N'Sync, has managed to transform himself into an entertainer whom few can equal, much less surpass. I found myself growing more and more fond of him as I watched his acting career progress, and then he put out an album which I didn't immediately despise. In fact, I actually liked it, which struck me as a bit odd. I'm an oldschool goth/industrial/metal kind of guy, but also a self professed fan of Yanni. It was when I saw him perform live that I was utterly captivated. Not only is he a magical performer, but he also surrounds himself with brilliant musicians whom he has no trouble sharing the stage and limelight with. After being so captivated I began to watch him in interviews, and could only find myself marveling at his humility and brilliance. To find myself so utterly enthralled by someone I used to utterly despise...well, that was a bit of a shock.
Growth. That is what this signifies to me. I have grown as a person, and as a human being. I'm now able to truly appreciate beauty in all its many forms, no matter how hard I tried to convince myself I was such a person before now. I mean, I liked (and still do adore) Yanni for god's sake. I was a well rounded person, at least musically, right? Wrong. Utterly, profoundly, completely wrong. I was a slave to "cool", and liking Justin Timberlake was the farthest thing from cool as you could get.
Now I will continue to listen to this brilliant musician and performer rock the pants off of me (and countless others) in a recorded live performance, wishing as hard as any teen girl that I was actually there to see this spectacle. Mock me if you wish, and if you've read anything I've written before you will know that I couldn't possible give less of a fuck. Another true sign of growth. I really don't care what anyone thinks anymore. I used to believe that I didn't care, but I really did. So much. So much in fact that it really did hurt. Badly.
I've quite literally been through hell, and crawled out the other side. My own mind has battered and bruised me far worse than another human could possibly dream of doing. I still have thoughts daily that would likely make the average person shit their pants. Such is life. Such is my broken mind.
For over a year I've done little more than hide away and smoke tremendous amounts of pot in an attempt to numb the pain enough to put myself back together. Now I take my first tentative steps back into the real world, and find myself in a new and very strange place. I say this because I recently quit smoking weed. My crutch was not ripped away from me, but willingly thrown. I have to get a real job, and make real money, to support my very real son and his blessed, holy saint of a mother.
The pain will never leave. My mind may be far more ordered now thanks to the year of seclusion, but it will forever remain broken. I know this now. Time to suck it up buttercup. The only thing I can hope for is that I have grown through the experience. I now view the world in a completely different, and hopefully better way. Money means nothing to me. Things mean even less. I have no desire to have money, and only wish to use it to help others. As for things, I want only that which can fit into the cab of an eighteen wheeler. Things that will allow me to live, and perhaps even provide a bit of enrichment and yes, entertainment. Maybe even play a Justin Timberlake song or two.
Thank you Justin, you will never know what you have done for me, and that is perfectly fine. I can only hope to enrich the lives of others, and maybe even open their eyes to the truth as you have for me, even if it is in the very strange and roundabout way you have done so for me.
Saturday, August 2, 2014
Sunday, April 6, 2014
A New Beginning
The idea of past lives has always fascinated me. The idea that this isn't the only run I get on the old dirt ball, and that I may have in fact been walking the same path for aeons, forever growing and evolving as a spiritual entity. I have to admit the thought is a rather tempting one. It taps into the primal need of any creature to continue on. To survive.
There are many ideas of what may lie beyond death. Everything from eternal torment to everlasting pleasure has been thought up throughout the course of human history. One has to wonder why that is. We are born in this age surrounded by countless different ideas on what death is, and what may come after. To us, spirituality is something that almost comes naturally. However, that couldn't have been the case for the first humans to dream up such concepts. They would have literally been the first, with no ideas to influence or shape their thoughts. The idea of a god or gods is very easy to explain, as people have an innate need to understand the natural occurrences around them. A god that controls such thing is an easy explanation, leaving people free to dream up other things. Perhaps this is where the idea of the afterlife arose, with the need to continue on driving a desire to forever be with the gods. Who can really say in the end? Also, does it even really matter?
While it may be a fun mental game to try and dream up where things may have began, the fact remains that they did, and still remain to this day. Even in the age of scientific wonders, almost every person on this planet believes on some level that they will continue on in spirit after the body dies. Why is that? Could it be that our subconscious mind knows something we do not, and dreamed up such simplistic concepts for our conscious mind to hold onto? Perhaps. Perhaps not. We will all find out one day, whether we want to or not.
The only idea that has ever really resonated within me was that of reincarnation. For some reason, it just sounded right, if a bit too simplistic. I have always felt that if humanity ever does discover a spiritual "world" in our scientific pursuits, it will most closely resemble the ideas behind reincarnation. There has never been a good reason for me to feel this way, but I always have, and will likely continue to do so for the rest of my life. However long that may be.
Death doesn't really frighten me. Even as a child, I was fairly comfortable with the thought of death, and understood what it meant on a deep level. That person, pet, or random creature will never exist again. Ever. The idea always forced me to stop and ponder the implications of the word "forever". It was such a wonderful concept, endless infinity, and I wrapped it around me like a blanket.
As I grew older, the truth of mortality began to set in. I lost some of that necessary innocence of childhood, and things within my blanket of forever began to take on hard edges. Shades of brilliant, dancing color became trapped within prisons of black and white. Things either were, or they weren't. It was as simple as that. With that dramatic change, is it any wonder I am a manic depressive as an adult?
Nearing my 33rd year, those edges are now beginning to loose some of their definition. The stark black and white that has for so long invaded my forever are now beginning to leak color once more. The truth I have sought all my adult life peeks out with those colors, tempting me back to the blissful innocence of childhood. Now with an adult's analytical mind, I am delving back down into the core of my being. Opening forgotten doors, and flooding my life, my very reality, with a brilliant light I had forever thought lost.
With that light comes the feeling deep within my heart that I have done all of this before. In a sense. The struggle to reach some sort of enlightenment has driven me onward through the years, stumbling to keep up more often than not. I have a lot of karmic debt that has followed me into this life, but that doesn't mean what most people will think. I am in no way being punished for misdeeds, but instead feeling the guilt of countless wasted lives. Sorrow and misery have been my companions for quite some time, and I only have myself to blame. Much as I have done through most of this life, those lives were spent searching for the truth. The answer to it all. I have raped and pillaged in search of the truth, and I have lived the simple life of a peasant farmer. Can I tell you specific details of these lives? Of course not, but somehow I know that they were lived. The wisdom of their lives lies deep within me. A fickle well that can sometimes be tapped.
Of course none of those people are me, and I am none of those people. We simply share...something. Some connection that bridges the years. Many have called it the soul, others have the idea of genetic memory. Whatever proves itself to be true, I feel the pleasure and the pain of those lives deep within my heart at all times. It is often faint, and in constant flux, but always there. It mixes itself with my own feelings and thoughts, and often shows me a good idea from a bad one. Most people call this their gut instinct, and I still do as well. I simply feel that there is more to it than would initially appear. It would seem the trick is to learn to listen better. To quiet your own mind and body, and search through the past for the answers. How often does one lament a bad decision, often stating that they should have listened to their gut? Perhaps by learning to listen better, such things need no longer happen.
From this point forward I am embracing my inner truth. I seek enlightenment and peace, and in turn I hope to bring peace to those who pass through my life. For too long, perhaps far longer than I can even imagine, bitterness and anger were my gifts to the world. I wish to change this, and hopefully change myself in doing so.
There are many ideas of what may lie beyond death. Everything from eternal torment to everlasting pleasure has been thought up throughout the course of human history. One has to wonder why that is. We are born in this age surrounded by countless different ideas on what death is, and what may come after. To us, spirituality is something that almost comes naturally. However, that couldn't have been the case for the first humans to dream up such concepts. They would have literally been the first, with no ideas to influence or shape their thoughts. The idea of a god or gods is very easy to explain, as people have an innate need to understand the natural occurrences around them. A god that controls such thing is an easy explanation, leaving people free to dream up other things. Perhaps this is where the idea of the afterlife arose, with the need to continue on driving a desire to forever be with the gods. Who can really say in the end? Also, does it even really matter?
While it may be a fun mental game to try and dream up where things may have began, the fact remains that they did, and still remain to this day. Even in the age of scientific wonders, almost every person on this planet believes on some level that they will continue on in spirit after the body dies. Why is that? Could it be that our subconscious mind knows something we do not, and dreamed up such simplistic concepts for our conscious mind to hold onto? Perhaps. Perhaps not. We will all find out one day, whether we want to or not.
The only idea that has ever really resonated within me was that of reincarnation. For some reason, it just sounded right, if a bit too simplistic. I have always felt that if humanity ever does discover a spiritual "world" in our scientific pursuits, it will most closely resemble the ideas behind reincarnation. There has never been a good reason for me to feel this way, but I always have, and will likely continue to do so for the rest of my life. However long that may be.
Death doesn't really frighten me. Even as a child, I was fairly comfortable with the thought of death, and understood what it meant on a deep level. That person, pet, or random creature will never exist again. Ever. The idea always forced me to stop and ponder the implications of the word "forever". It was such a wonderful concept, endless infinity, and I wrapped it around me like a blanket.
As I grew older, the truth of mortality began to set in. I lost some of that necessary innocence of childhood, and things within my blanket of forever began to take on hard edges. Shades of brilliant, dancing color became trapped within prisons of black and white. Things either were, or they weren't. It was as simple as that. With that dramatic change, is it any wonder I am a manic depressive as an adult?
Nearing my 33rd year, those edges are now beginning to loose some of their definition. The stark black and white that has for so long invaded my forever are now beginning to leak color once more. The truth I have sought all my adult life peeks out with those colors, tempting me back to the blissful innocence of childhood. Now with an adult's analytical mind, I am delving back down into the core of my being. Opening forgotten doors, and flooding my life, my very reality, with a brilliant light I had forever thought lost.
With that light comes the feeling deep within my heart that I have done all of this before. In a sense. The struggle to reach some sort of enlightenment has driven me onward through the years, stumbling to keep up more often than not. I have a lot of karmic debt that has followed me into this life, but that doesn't mean what most people will think. I am in no way being punished for misdeeds, but instead feeling the guilt of countless wasted lives. Sorrow and misery have been my companions for quite some time, and I only have myself to blame. Much as I have done through most of this life, those lives were spent searching for the truth. The answer to it all. I have raped and pillaged in search of the truth, and I have lived the simple life of a peasant farmer. Can I tell you specific details of these lives? Of course not, but somehow I know that they were lived. The wisdom of their lives lies deep within me. A fickle well that can sometimes be tapped.
Of course none of those people are me, and I am none of those people. We simply share...something. Some connection that bridges the years. Many have called it the soul, others have the idea of genetic memory. Whatever proves itself to be true, I feel the pleasure and the pain of those lives deep within my heart at all times. It is often faint, and in constant flux, but always there. It mixes itself with my own feelings and thoughts, and often shows me a good idea from a bad one. Most people call this their gut instinct, and I still do as well. I simply feel that there is more to it than would initially appear. It would seem the trick is to learn to listen better. To quiet your own mind and body, and search through the past for the answers. How often does one lament a bad decision, often stating that they should have listened to their gut? Perhaps by learning to listen better, such things need no longer happen.
From this point forward I am embracing my inner truth. I seek enlightenment and peace, and in turn I hope to bring peace to those who pass through my life. For too long, perhaps far longer than I can even imagine, bitterness and anger were my gifts to the world. I wish to change this, and hopefully change myself in doing so.
Thursday, January 23, 2014
A Question Posed
A very simple question was posed to me the other day, and it struck me with its elegant simplicity and shining clarity. That question was this, "do you think you are gifted? In touch with other dimensions?"Now, it is the first part of the question which struck me. The extra dimensional aspect I will delve into later.
For now, let us break that first question down to the many different layers within. First off, am I gifted in any way? An honest question that everyone should ask themselves at some point. I really don't think that Tyler Durden was right at all, which was the entire point of the thing, but I digress. Self improvement is not masturbation, and if it is indeed such, then so what? I kinda dig masturbating, as does every other human of sexual age and sound body. Whether they admit it or not is another question, and some even feel guilt at the very thought of the act, though they continue to "abuse" themselves nightly. Humans are sexual creatures, and there is nothing wrong with that. There is also nothing wrong with seeking to better oneself. Asking if you are special in any way is a genuine question that may just impact the entire course of your life. You don't even have to feel guilty, as you aren't placing yourself above anyone else, but simply acknowledging that you are indeed a beautiful and unique snowflake.
I myself am gifted in a few ways I am willing to accept and embrace. I have a special relationship with the English language. I do not always do her justice, but I appreciate the ebb and flow, the oddities, the apparent paradoxes, and the simple beauty of such a diverse language. English as we know it today has a rich and diverse history, and can claim influences from almost every language in use today and many which aren't. It is a beautiful, almost living thing in its own right, and I love that. I seek to toil away the remainder of my days as a wordsmith, hoping to craft something beautiful out of the raw ether.
I am also fairly intelligent. I wouldn't place myself with the mental greats of any age, but I'm certainly no fool. I may act like one quite often, but that is simply because at my core I am nothing but an awestruck child stumbling through the beauty, and tragedy of life. It affects me in ways I cannot begin to explain, and the smallest thing can be a near fatal blow. Ironically, while I may feel the smallest tremor in life as the big one, the actual big quake can pass me by almost unnoticed. It is almost as if I simply cannot process something of such an earth shattering magnitude, and retreat into myself until it passes. Actually, that is exactly what happens. No need to dance around the truth, now is there?
That is the other thing I appreciate about myself is that I seek the truth in all things, including myself. I will often gladly admit to a wrong, and seek to make things better. I've always sought to be this way, but have often failed in adhering to the practice. Like any other young male, I equated faults to weakness, and would refuse to even acknowledge many of them. This acceptance of the truth has come from years of experience in doing things the wrong way entirely. Everyone has faults, and having them isn't exactly a weakness in itself. The fault may induce some sort of weakness, be it physical, mental, or emotional, but being flawed is not a weakness. In fact, one can find their greatest strength in accepting their flaws and seeking to better themselves.
Humans have an innate need to be led, and as such tend to deify those they seek to emulate. If you act more like the alpha, you might indeed become the alpha some day. At the very least, alpha might like you more. Combine that simplistic, instinctual drive with a mind capable of abstract thought, and it's no wonder we have a plethora of gods. Our need to understand, mixed in with the need to be like alpha spat out no end of amazingly powerful gods. Though we think ourselves so removed from such things today, that is simply not the case.
Einstein wasn't some kind of time traveling android from the future who came back to give us a glimpse of the truth, he was simply a man with an extraordinary mind and a few ideas about how things might really work. He was simply a human seeking to understand the world in which he lived, even though he sought to understand the very universe in which the world itself lived. He looked beyond conventional boundaries and showed us a glimpse of what lay behind the curtain. However, do you know much more about the man himself? I don't. I can infer a few things though, and I would imagine that a man who spent so much time in his own head tended to be a bit odd. I could even see him being a bit of an asshole, because he simply had no time for the mundane thoughts of those around him. He was flying between dimensions, not thinking about what's for dinner. Of course I'm not going to call Einstein an asshole, because that is just my mind making connections where none may exist. I do know for a simple fact that he had flaws though, if for no other reason than because he was indeed a human being.
I too seek to understand the universe, and I too am a flawed and infinitesimal human being. Am I really any different from Einstein? Am I really any different from any of the great minds of our age? No, no I am not. We are all one and the same. While I may not have the mental capacity of some of our current great minds, like Neil Degrasse Tyson, we are all just monkeys poking things with sticks. Thankfully, science loves to share its findings, and I can absorb what they have learned. Who knows, maybe I can even add to it one day, as could any other person alive. If you are ever around a person who is, for lack of a better term, simple, you will often find that they cut straight through the bullshit and call out the truth. We all have our strengths.
To finally answer the first question, am I gifted? Yes, and so is everyone else.
And now we delve into something a bit more mystical. If you have an aversion to psychic bullshit, know that you are in good company with me. I am a militant agnostic. I don't know, you don't know, no one knows. Period. Shut the fuck up about it.
Do I believe there could possibly be extra dimension which we aren't fully aware of. Well of course I do. They are all around you every day, influencing every conscious thought and action you have while interacting with the rest of humanity. Vocal sounds make up a very small portion of human communication, with the rest being made up by body language and other similarly subtle things that often escape notice. Pheromones dance in the air around you constantly, inciting subtle hormonal changes in your body that affect how you may feel about a person of situation. I simply cannot handle being around a mass of people, as I tend to be a bit sensitive to pheromones and other scents in the world. It is like a rush of feeling and emotion that induces a panic attack. I honestly believe that research into human pheromones will one day explain why people have panic attacks simply by being in a crowd.
Psychics. Empaths. Bullshit.
There very well may be other planes of existence that we do not know about. In fact I genuinely believe there are. We have barely scratched the surface of what we know as reality, which itself exists within each and every mind alive today. We create our own universes. I will never know exactly how a smooth glass surface feels to anyone else, because I will never, ever be that person. I will never have the neurons of my mind aligned precisely as it is in their mind. My body will never grow the nerve endings in exactly the same way.
For someone to claim a connection to something greater is highly suspect to me. I would never suggest that such people do not exist, but I think that most of them can be explained away easily by our current understanding of science. An "empath" is someone who feels the emotions of others. They often claim some kind of sixth sense that gives them this ability, and in truth that is exactly right. We have far more than five senses, and one of them is pheromone recognition. I too feel the emotions of others, because I pick up the pheromone signature that said emotions produce. I also key in heavily on body language and facial expressions instinctively. Therefore, I have a pretty good gauge of how someone feels at a particular moment. This is nothing more than a useful trait that has evolved to give people a better sense of the pack mind, and some are of course better at it than others. Almost any successful person has this ability, and many have learned how to use it consciously. These are the used car salesmen, or the politicians who can read any person or crown and adapt their approach.
As for a connection to something else, to a higher plane. I do see things. I do hear things. I do find certain patterns in the world that seem to be ordered in certain ways, and if I follow the patterns life does seem to be easier. I am also a diagnosed schizophrenic. I really can't say if these things are real or just a product of my overactive imagination. That is what schizophrenia really is, and what it boils down to at it's root: a hyperactive imagination. Since our minds create our reality, these things are indeed real to me. If they come from another place other than my own mind is truly not important. They affect my life, and therefore are real.
The question now really becomes whether or not I can learn to control the phantasms. I don't really care where the voices come from, or the shadow people, or the random feelings of near touch that plague my everyday life. I just want to at least learn to control them. If that involves performing "magical" rituals, then so be it. Of course my source of magic will come from a known and much researched source, hallucinogens.
I'm not talking about black cats and frog's eyes here, but instead delving into our deep past and dredging up nearly lost arts. The shaman, or medicine man, was always a powerful figure in a tribal setting. They of course mostly used bullshit and sleight of hand to fool the naive, but the position itself came into being for a reason. We need to understand the world around us, and in order to do so we must understand ourselves first. The shaman realizes this, and delves into themselves in search of answers. They glide through the multicolored folds of their minds, and pick out useful pieces of information that helps us to understand the human condition. That the shamanic arts were lost in the rise of scientific thought is a true shame. More than any other magical art that later became a true science, like astrology, the shamanic arts of self realization deserved a true scientific treatment.
Due to testing of hallucinogens in the early 20th century, which among other factors led to the psychedelic movement of the fifties and sixties, we advanced more in the field of psychiatry than we ever have before or since. Now the general consensus seems to be that everything needs a chemical fix. Nearly all research funding is in this area of the field, and the research into actually understanding ourselves has fallen to a brave few. Ever wonder why everyone is miserable? Ever wonder why even rich, healthy people need pills to keep them happy? We have absolutely no idea who we are or what we want. None at all. We are children given the ability to purchase any shiny thing that appeals to our childlike wonder. Seeking to fill a hole left by our lack of understanding.
I wish to reach into other dimensions. Hell, I want to surf the fuckers while playing patty cake with a purple gorilla. Another thing shamans had going for them in their line of work, they stayed fucked up on the best drugs. Of course they enjoyed themselves, and why the hell not? Just because you are undertaking a serious pursuit doesn't mean you have to seriously disregard the talking colors, or that really awesome purple gorilla who is always down for a serious round of patty cake.
I will enjoy myself greatly while undertaking these trips. Also, look at the word itself that describes the experience. Trip. You are indeed taking a trip, into the depths of your psyche. Could be scary as hell, or the most wonderful experience you have ever had. That is the gamble. I'm fully expecting to find some seriously dark shit hidden down in there that needs clearing out. Perhaps the gleaming blade of Aramath will do the trick, or maybe my rainbow colored rail gun that shots out soap bubbles at hyper-kinetic velocity. It's my mind, and I'll clean it out however I really want to, thank you very much.
In the end I only seek understanding. I only want to understand and control. I want my fucking life back, and I'm willing to go to great lengths to get it. My son deserves a father, not a hobbled hermit afraid of his own shadow. A man who must hide away from the world, because it all really is too much to handle. I feel like I am dying, and I mean that very literally. I genuinely feel that death lurks close by, and that I'm toeing the line between realms a little too closely.
Were it not for my son, I would have died six months ago. I would have found a way, even if the direct approach is seemingly beyond me. I wanted to die. I wanted it to end. All of it, every white hot thought and emotions quenched in the quiet peace of oblivion. Turn every TV on in your house to something you despise, though a different thing on each one, and turn them up to full volume. Now find every radio in your house and do the same thing with music you hate. Then take the time to set every alarm clock in your house to go off at different, random times. You'd want to eat a bullet after a while too.
In a lot of ways I did die six months ago. The old me is forever lost. I will never be that person again, no matter how long I may live. He is like an old friend that I secretly couldn't stand. I will miss him, but I'm kind of grateful that he is gone. Dude was kind of an idiot. Now I find myself slowly waking up. It is almost like finding myself in a new and completely unfamiliar body. The sense of dislocation is ever present. I don't feel at home in this skin, as I had little to do with wrecking it. Who I was before the break will forever feel like another person, just one I know a lot about.
Slowly I'm coming back into myself though. Little pieces falling into place, or that I've carefully placed myself. No longer am I trying to ram a square peg into a round hole, then duct taping it in place out of frustration. I know my limitations more keenly than anything else about me, as they were the first to present themselves to this "new" me. I hate people in general, and rarely ever care to be around them. There are a select few I can enjoy for a brief time, but even then I long to return to my solitude. Only my son can keep my awe and attention for any length of time. I adore that child more than I think he will ever truly know, but I seek to show him as often as I can. I hug him as often as I can, and often kiss him atop the head. I worship that boy, and he embodies every good quality I ever wanted to have. He is kind, caring, thinks of others before himself quite often, and is genuinely a special person. That isn't just a father talking up his own child, he really is something special. He will do great things in this world, even if they are only for those he loves.
Suddenly the hammer grows heavy. The blade gleams, raw upon the anvil. It is done, and any more would be too much. Fine tuning and polishing can come later, if ever at all. A true smith would have apprentices for such tasks, and since I am alone they often never get done. I just like crafting the blade.
For now, let us break that first question down to the many different layers within. First off, am I gifted in any way? An honest question that everyone should ask themselves at some point. I really don't think that Tyler Durden was right at all, which was the entire point of the thing, but I digress. Self improvement is not masturbation, and if it is indeed such, then so what? I kinda dig masturbating, as does every other human of sexual age and sound body. Whether they admit it or not is another question, and some even feel guilt at the very thought of the act, though they continue to "abuse" themselves nightly. Humans are sexual creatures, and there is nothing wrong with that. There is also nothing wrong with seeking to better oneself. Asking if you are special in any way is a genuine question that may just impact the entire course of your life. You don't even have to feel guilty, as you aren't placing yourself above anyone else, but simply acknowledging that you are indeed a beautiful and unique snowflake.
I myself am gifted in a few ways I am willing to accept and embrace. I have a special relationship with the English language. I do not always do her justice, but I appreciate the ebb and flow, the oddities, the apparent paradoxes, and the simple beauty of such a diverse language. English as we know it today has a rich and diverse history, and can claim influences from almost every language in use today and many which aren't. It is a beautiful, almost living thing in its own right, and I love that. I seek to toil away the remainder of my days as a wordsmith, hoping to craft something beautiful out of the raw ether.
I am also fairly intelligent. I wouldn't place myself with the mental greats of any age, but I'm certainly no fool. I may act like one quite often, but that is simply because at my core I am nothing but an awestruck child stumbling through the beauty, and tragedy of life. It affects me in ways I cannot begin to explain, and the smallest thing can be a near fatal blow. Ironically, while I may feel the smallest tremor in life as the big one, the actual big quake can pass me by almost unnoticed. It is almost as if I simply cannot process something of such an earth shattering magnitude, and retreat into myself until it passes. Actually, that is exactly what happens. No need to dance around the truth, now is there?
That is the other thing I appreciate about myself is that I seek the truth in all things, including myself. I will often gladly admit to a wrong, and seek to make things better. I've always sought to be this way, but have often failed in adhering to the practice. Like any other young male, I equated faults to weakness, and would refuse to even acknowledge many of them. This acceptance of the truth has come from years of experience in doing things the wrong way entirely. Everyone has faults, and having them isn't exactly a weakness in itself. The fault may induce some sort of weakness, be it physical, mental, or emotional, but being flawed is not a weakness. In fact, one can find their greatest strength in accepting their flaws and seeking to better themselves.
Humans have an innate need to be led, and as such tend to deify those they seek to emulate. If you act more like the alpha, you might indeed become the alpha some day. At the very least, alpha might like you more. Combine that simplistic, instinctual drive with a mind capable of abstract thought, and it's no wonder we have a plethora of gods. Our need to understand, mixed in with the need to be like alpha spat out no end of amazingly powerful gods. Though we think ourselves so removed from such things today, that is simply not the case.
Einstein wasn't some kind of time traveling android from the future who came back to give us a glimpse of the truth, he was simply a man with an extraordinary mind and a few ideas about how things might really work. He was simply a human seeking to understand the world in which he lived, even though he sought to understand the very universe in which the world itself lived. He looked beyond conventional boundaries and showed us a glimpse of what lay behind the curtain. However, do you know much more about the man himself? I don't. I can infer a few things though, and I would imagine that a man who spent so much time in his own head tended to be a bit odd. I could even see him being a bit of an asshole, because he simply had no time for the mundane thoughts of those around him. He was flying between dimensions, not thinking about what's for dinner. Of course I'm not going to call Einstein an asshole, because that is just my mind making connections where none may exist. I do know for a simple fact that he had flaws though, if for no other reason than because he was indeed a human being.
I too seek to understand the universe, and I too am a flawed and infinitesimal human being. Am I really any different from Einstein? Am I really any different from any of the great minds of our age? No, no I am not. We are all one and the same. While I may not have the mental capacity of some of our current great minds, like Neil Degrasse Tyson, we are all just monkeys poking things with sticks. Thankfully, science loves to share its findings, and I can absorb what they have learned. Who knows, maybe I can even add to it one day, as could any other person alive. If you are ever around a person who is, for lack of a better term, simple, you will often find that they cut straight through the bullshit and call out the truth. We all have our strengths.
To finally answer the first question, am I gifted? Yes, and so is everyone else.
And now we delve into something a bit more mystical. If you have an aversion to psychic bullshit, know that you are in good company with me. I am a militant agnostic. I don't know, you don't know, no one knows. Period. Shut the fuck up about it.
Do I believe there could possibly be extra dimension which we aren't fully aware of. Well of course I do. They are all around you every day, influencing every conscious thought and action you have while interacting with the rest of humanity. Vocal sounds make up a very small portion of human communication, with the rest being made up by body language and other similarly subtle things that often escape notice. Pheromones dance in the air around you constantly, inciting subtle hormonal changes in your body that affect how you may feel about a person of situation. I simply cannot handle being around a mass of people, as I tend to be a bit sensitive to pheromones and other scents in the world. It is like a rush of feeling and emotion that induces a panic attack. I honestly believe that research into human pheromones will one day explain why people have panic attacks simply by being in a crowd.
Psychics. Empaths. Bullshit.
There very well may be other planes of existence that we do not know about. In fact I genuinely believe there are. We have barely scratched the surface of what we know as reality, which itself exists within each and every mind alive today. We create our own universes. I will never know exactly how a smooth glass surface feels to anyone else, because I will never, ever be that person. I will never have the neurons of my mind aligned precisely as it is in their mind. My body will never grow the nerve endings in exactly the same way.
For someone to claim a connection to something greater is highly suspect to me. I would never suggest that such people do not exist, but I think that most of them can be explained away easily by our current understanding of science. An "empath" is someone who feels the emotions of others. They often claim some kind of sixth sense that gives them this ability, and in truth that is exactly right. We have far more than five senses, and one of them is pheromone recognition. I too feel the emotions of others, because I pick up the pheromone signature that said emotions produce. I also key in heavily on body language and facial expressions instinctively. Therefore, I have a pretty good gauge of how someone feels at a particular moment. This is nothing more than a useful trait that has evolved to give people a better sense of the pack mind, and some are of course better at it than others. Almost any successful person has this ability, and many have learned how to use it consciously. These are the used car salesmen, or the politicians who can read any person or crown and adapt their approach.
As for a connection to something else, to a higher plane. I do see things. I do hear things. I do find certain patterns in the world that seem to be ordered in certain ways, and if I follow the patterns life does seem to be easier. I am also a diagnosed schizophrenic. I really can't say if these things are real or just a product of my overactive imagination. That is what schizophrenia really is, and what it boils down to at it's root: a hyperactive imagination. Since our minds create our reality, these things are indeed real to me. If they come from another place other than my own mind is truly not important. They affect my life, and therefore are real.
The question now really becomes whether or not I can learn to control the phantasms. I don't really care where the voices come from, or the shadow people, or the random feelings of near touch that plague my everyday life. I just want to at least learn to control them. If that involves performing "magical" rituals, then so be it. Of course my source of magic will come from a known and much researched source, hallucinogens.
I'm not talking about black cats and frog's eyes here, but instead delving into our deep past and dredging up nearly lost arts. The shaman, or medicine man, was always a powerful figure in a tribal setting. They of course mostly used bullshit and sleight of hand to fool the naive, but the position itself came into being for a reason. We need to understand the world around us, and in order to do so we must understand ourselves first. The shaman realizes this, and delves into themselves in search of answers. They glide through the multicolored folds of their minds, and pick out useful pieces of information that helps us to understand the human condition. That the shamanic arts were lost in the rise of scientific thought is a true shame. More than any other magical art that later became a true science, like astrology, the shamanic arts of self realization deserved a true scientific treatment.
Due to testing of hallucinogens in the early 20th century, which among other factors led to the psychedelic movement of the fifties and sixties, we advanced more in the field of psychiatry than we ever have before or since. Now the general consensus seems to be that everything needs a chemical fix. Nearly all research funding is in this area of the field, and the research into actually understanding ourselves has fallen to a brave few. Ever wonder why everyone is miserable? Ever wonder why even rich, healthy people need pills to keep them happy? We have absolutely no idea who we are or what we want. None at all. We are children given the ability to purchase any shiny thing that appeals to our childlike wonder. Seeking to fill a hole left by our lack of understanding.
I wish to reach into other dimensions. Hell, I want to surf the fuckers while playing patty cake with a purple gorilla. Another thing shamans had going for them in their line of work, they stayed fucked up on the best drugs. Of course they enjoyed themselves, and why the hell not? Just because you are undertaking a serious pursuit doesn't mean you have to seriously disregard the talking colors, or that really awesome purple gorilla who is always down for a serious round of patty cake.
I will enjoy myself greatly while undertaking these trips. Also, look at the word itself that describes the experience. Trip. You are indeed taking a trip, into the depths of your psyche. Could be scary as hell, or the most wonderful experience you have ever had. That is the gamble. I'm fully expecting to find some seriously dark shit hidden down in there that needs clearing out. Perhaps the gleaming blade of Aramath will do the trick, or maybe my rainbow colored rail gun that shots out soap bubbles at hyper-kinetic velocity. It's my mind, and I'll clean it out however I really want to, thank you very much.
In the end I only seek understanding. I only want to understand and control. I want my fucking life back, and I'm willing to go to great lengths to get it. My son deserves a father, not a hobbled hermit afraid of his own shadow. A man who must hide away from the world, because it all really is too much to handle. I feel like I am dying, and I mean that very literally. I genuinely feel that death lurks close by, and that I'm toeing the line between realms a little too closely.
Were it not for my son, I would have died six months ago. I would have found a way, even if the direct approach is seemingly beyond me. I wanted to die. I wanted it to end. All of it, every white hot thought and emotions quenched in the quiet peace of oblivion. Turn every TV on in your house to something you despise, though a different thing on each one, and turn them up to full volume. Now find every radio in your house and do the same thing with music you hate. Then take the time to set every alarm clock in your house to go off at different, random times. You'd want to eat a bullet after a while too.
In a lot of ways I did die six months ago. The old me is forever lost. I will never be that person again, no matter how long I may live. He is like an old friend that I secretly couldn't stand. I will miss him, but I'm kind of grateful that he is gone. Dude was kind of an idiot. Now I find myself slowly waking up. It is almost like finding myself in a new and completely unfamiliar body. The sense of dislocation is ever present. I don't feel at home in this skin, as I had little to do with wrecking it. Who I was before the break will forever feel like another person, just one I know a lot about.
Slowly I'm coming back into myself though. Little pieces falling into place, or that I've carefully placed myself. No longer am I trying to ram a square peg into a round hole, then duct taping it in place out of frustration. I know my limitations more keenly than anything else about me, as they were the first to present themselves to this "new" me. I hate people in general, and rarely ever care to be around them. There are a select few I can enjoy for a brief time, but even then I long to return to my solitude. Only my son can keep my awe and attention for any length of time. I adore that child more than I think he will ever truly know, but I seek to show him as often as I can. I hug him as often as I can, and often kiss him atop the head. I worship that boy, and he embodies every good quality I ever wanted to have. He is kind, caring, thinks of others before himself quite often, and is genuinely a special person. That isn't just a father talking up his own child, he really is something special. He will do great things in this world, even if they are only for those he loves.
Suddenly the hammer grows heavy. The blade gleams, raw upon the anvil. It is done, and any more would be too much. Fine tuning and polishing can come later, if ever at all. A true smith would have apprentices for such tasks, and since I am alone they often never get done. I just like crafting the blade.
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Mistake
The universe does indeed seem to make mistakes from time to time. Often it would seem those mistakes occur within the framework of biological life. It's almost as if in it's blind groping for progress, the universe can't seem to fully grasp this new and mysterious creation that exists within its bounds. Mutations and the like run rampant, often with disturbing results. Just look at pictures of malformed fetuses for proof of that.
However, one has to wonder if the universe really is so blind. It has marched along for billions, if not trillions of what we know as years. I really don't buy the big bang theory, although I do think it is leading us in the right direction. Progress. Building upon what was already made or discovered. The universe itself is masterful in this, even without the need for a higher functioning mind or consciousness. The universe has no need for a creator or a god, as it is doing just fine on its own thanks.
From basic subatomic and exotic particles to fully formed and functional life, the universe has marched onwards. Forever building upon what it has already created. We are simply an extension of that process. Humanity, and it's ability to reason on a higher and abstract level, are as much a part of the universe as it is a part of us. It created us, crafted us over countless eons of blind progress. We are a part of a grand cycle, a massive and unimaginable framework of mindless patterns and forces that created and in essence control us. Humanity is quite different from say, a rock however. A human possesses a mind, and not only a mind that runs autonomous systems simply to keep the body alive, but a mind that can think on a higher level. A mind that can begin to allow the universe to understand itself.
You see, when one really gets down to it and thinks on what I will call a "quantum" level, you realize that the few actual particles and vast amounts of energy and force that hold us and our world together are all just a part of the universe itself. Humanity often likes to think itself separate from nature, or sometimes even above it. There are even those who call us a plague, a virulent infection that is destroying our very home. The one place in the entire universe known to contain all of the required things that make human life even possible. It is hard to disagree with the latter. Just watch the news to see the effects the hordes of humanity are having on the planet.
I do not agree with those who think that way, however. I happen to see us as all part of a grand process. An "experiment" by the forces of the universe in biological life that has led to the development of the higher human mind. The universe has found a way to understand itself, and while we may be an evolutionary dead end, we are still part of a greater process. While this mutation may be one that cannot continue to exist and may die off, it will lead to something greater. That thing may be humanity itself realizing its place in the grand scheme of things, or it may very well be another creature evolving into a higher form much later in the universal timeline. Perhaps they will be better adapted to recognize what the universe desires of them and to act upon that. None of us is likely to ever know the answer to that or many other questions. Some find that a depressing realization, but I see it quite differently.
The unknown has always frightened humanity and driven them to explore. The human mind loathes a lack of understanding, and seeks to catalog everything it can for future reference and processing. Isn't that odd? Isn't is odd that the one driving factor behind almost every human action is the fear of the unknown and the desire to better understand it, or in fact destroy it? The destructive nature comes from the reactionary animal brain, but the deeper drive of humanity is to understand. I find it very odd that this would be the case. Wouldn't it be better for us as a species to simply understand our surroundings and learn to adapt to them? Wouldn't we be more successful as a species if everyone simply focused and adapted to their immediate surroundings? There would be less competition, and in the end humans as a species would begin to diverge and better adapt to their surroundings. This isn't the case though, and as a species we have always sought to better understand everything, everywhere. The fear of the unknown seems to be almost deliberate, as fear motivates us more than any other emotion.
I suppose what I'm getting at here is that there is a greater plan behind all of this, but there isn't any kind of greater force directing it. There simply isn't a need for one. The blind and dumb actions of the universe have created a masterpiece, and I think that if it could feel emotions that it would be quite proud of us. We as humans are the pinnacle of evolution as we know it. We should take great pride in that fact, and also realize that we should be humble in our grandeur. Instead of constantly puffing out our chests at each other over who's god might have the bigger dick, or who controls what resource, we should instead be seeking to better understand our place in this beautiful universe. We should be turning every bit of our energy over to exploration and scientific discovery, and also to better understanding each other and the forces that influence us. In a way, that is the very thing we were created for. The universe wishes to understand itself, and I feel we should oblige it.
However, one has to wonder if the universe really is so blind. It has marched along for billions, if not trillions of what we know as years. I really don't buy the big bang theory, although I do think it is leading us in the right direction. Progress. Building upon what was already made or discovered. The universe itself is masterful in this, even without the need for a higher functioning mind or consciousness. The universe has no need for a creator or a god, as it is doing just fine on its own thanks.
From basic subatomic and exotic particles to fully formed and functional life, the universe has marched onwards. Forever building upon what it has already created. We are simply an extension of that process. Humanity, and it's ability to reason on a higher and abstract level, are as much a part of the universe as it is a part of us. It created us, crafted us over countless eons of blind progress. We are a part of a grand cycle, a massive and unimaginable framework of mindless patterns and forces that created and in essence control us. Humanity is quite different from say, a rock however. A human possesses a mind, and not only a mind that runs autonomous systems simply to keep the body alive, but a mind that can think on a higher level. A mind that can begin to allow the universe to understand itself.
You see, when one really gets down to it and thinks on what I will call a "quantum" level, you realize that the few actual particles and vast amounts of energy and force that hold us and our world together are all just a part of the universe itself. Humanity often likes to think itself separate from nature, or sometimes even above it. There are even those who call us a plague, a virulent infection that is destroying our very home. The one place in the entire universe known to contain all of the required things that make human life even possible. It is hard to disagree with the latter. Just watch the news to see the effects the hordes of humanity are having on the planet.
I do not agree with those who think that way, however. I happen to see us as all part of a grand process. An "experiment" by the forces of the universe in biological life that has led to the development of the higher human mind. The universe has found a way to understand itself, and while we may be an evolutionary dead end, we are still part of a greater process. While this mutation may be one that cannot continue to exist and may die off, it will lead to something greater. That thing may be humanity itself realizing its place in the grand scheme of things, or it may very well be another creature evolving into a higher form much later in the universal timeline. Perhaps they will be better adapted to recognize what the universe desires of them and to act upon that. None of us is likely to ever know the answer to that or many other questions. Some find that a depressing realization, but I see it quite differently.
The unknown has always frightened humanity and driven them to explore. The human mind loathes a lack of understanding, and seeks to catalog everything it can for future reference and processing. Isn't that odd? Isn't is odd that the one driving factor behind almost every human action is the fear of the unknown and the desire to better understand it, or in fact destroy it? The destructive nature comes from the reactionary animal brain, but the deeper drive of humanity is to understand. I find it very odd that this would be the case. Wouldn't it be better for us as a species to simply understand our surroundings and learn to adapt to them? Wouldn't we be more successful as a species if everyone simply focused and adapted to their immediate surroundings? There would be less competition, and in the end humans as a species would begin to diverge and better adapt to their surroundings. This isn't the case though, and as a species we have always sought to better understand everything, everywhere. The fear of the unknown seems to be almost deliberate, as fear motivates us more than any other emotion.
I suppose what I'm getting at here is that there is a greater plan behind all of this, but there isn't any kind of greater force directing it. There simply isn't a need for one. The blind and dumb actions of the universe have created a masterpiece, and I think that if it could feel emotions that it would be quite proud of us. We as humans are the pinnacle of evolution as we know it. We should take great pride in that fact, and also realize that we should be humble in our grandeur. Instead of constantly puffing out our chests at each other over who's god might have the bigger dick, or who controls what resource, we should instead be seeking to better understand our place in this beautiful universe. We should be turning every bit of our energy over to exploration and scientific discovery, and also to better understanding each other and the forces that influence us. In a way, that is the very thing we were created for. The universe wishes to understand itself, and I feel we should oblige it.
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Piss Off All the Fuckers - America and Americans
Kidding of course. No matter how high, I always delight in pissing people off. Especially fat, lazy, stupid ass Americans. Yep, let's go there.
Americans are taught throughout their youth that this is far and away the best country ever. That in fact every other country in the world only wishes they were America. Such utter, vile, putrid bullshit. You see, most folks are quite happy where they are. They may even tend to like or love the hell out of that place or country, and the only thought they give America is one of contempt. This place isn't anything special, and in fact we are falling behind the rest of the world in basically everything. Go cry you fucking turds, this country blows.
But Bob, you can only say such things because you do in fact live in America.
Oh, really? According to my brain and the wonders of the internet, there are a lot of countries who also have laws regarding freedom of speech. Hey, even the Chinese tend to call bullshit from time to time without getting into trouble. This place may have made the idea popular, but it is far from the only country in which one can express their open opinions. Let's also take into account people like Edward Snowden, who called bullshit and was labeled a traitor. He exposed a shit ton of governmental corruption, and yet most of you only know that he is a "traitor" because Fox Motherfucking Asshole Worthless Biased Bullshit News told you so. Or CNN, or MSNBC, or any other "news" agency controlled by corporate interests. These same corporations are the ones who fund the needlessly elaborate and expensive "campaigns" these so called politicians are running. You people eat that shit up, don't ya?
I'm so sick and fucking tired of American elitism. Most of you corn fed dipshits can barely wipe your ass without praying to some asshole in the sky, much less make informed decisions about things like science. You know, science, that thing that is slowly being strangled in America because certain people love to hit it with a god damned book.
Are there good things about America? Dear fucking god yes. I am spoiled purely rotten by the extravagance of this place. I have neat little boxes that show me pretty pictures (often of women doing nasty things), and hopefully these fucking things will make me a living. Still, a bejeweled demon cock is still just a demon cock, no matter how pretty it may be.
How dare you post such a thing so close to Veteran's Day! Don't you care about the troops?
Would you care to explain to me what in the holy fuck supporting the troops has to do with hating this country? Explain to me why I can't fully support the poor souls who are fighting, dying, and loosing themselves just to make a very small group of rich assholes even richer. Fucking explain to me why I can't love and feel immense pride because my nephew is a proud member of the Armed Forces. I hate you people, I hate the technocratic assholes who are fucking everything up, and I probably hate most of the soldiers too. However, I respect them a great deal more than I respect most of you pukes. Unlike most, myself included, they had the god damned balls to pick up a weapon and go get shot at, while being forced to shoot other human beings while basically invading and occupying their country as if they were Roman Legionnaires. Most of them were looking to better themselves, a select few love to kill (and fucking good for them, I mean that), but almost none wanted to travel to a foreign land in some kind of fucked up Crusade where they can loose everything, their minds included. Yet you motherfuckers dare to use them as leverage in your political bullshit. If someone wants to cut defense spending, of which a tiny fraction actually goes to arming and paying troops, in favor of more social programs, then you obviously hate those troops. Yeah? Fuck you.
No one wants to actually help anyone else in this fucking place. Everyone is so wrapped up in themselves and their own wants and "needs" that the thought of actually giving up just a little bit of that so that another human being can eat and survive is preposterous. You mean I'll have to get a 32" TV instead of a 60"? Umbungu can fucking die for all I care! Again. Fuck you, and in this fuck me too.
Well if you don't like it here, why don't you just leave?
Okay you motherfucker, buy myself, my son, and his mother a ticket to another country and I'll gladly see the last of you. I'm not even asking for help once we get there, but just for the trip itself. You see, I didn't choose to be born amongst you nut sacks, and I'd love to go. However, since I was born here I've made something of a life, and have had a son. If you even ask me to separate myself from him I'll cut your goddamned face off and feed it back to you slowly. However, I'd love to get him the fuck out of here as soon as possible, even if it means sleeping on the streets for a while in another place. I'm not saying that place will be any better than here, but at least I can teach him that there are in fact other cultures in the world. Most of them are much older than ours, and many are far better in a number of ways.
So in conclusion, fuck you. Put down your goddamned smartphones, move your fat asses from in front of that massive television, and get busy taking this country back from the corporate elite. Otherwise everything I said here and more will forever stand. I hate you all.
Americans are taught throughout their youth that this is far and away the best country ever. That in fact every other country in the world only wishes they were America. Such utter, vile, putrid bullshit. You see, most folks are quite happy where they are. They may even tend to like or love the hell out of that place or country, and the only thought they give America is one of contempt. This place isn't anything special, and in fact we are falling behind the rest of the world in basically everything. Go cry you fucking turds, this country blows.
But Bob, you can only say such things because you do in fact live in America.
Oh, really? According to my brain and the wonders of the internet, there are a lot of countries who also have laws regarding freedom of speech. Hey, even the Chinese tend to call bullshit from time to time without getting into trouble. This place may have made the idea popular, but it is far from the only country in which one can express their open opinions. Let's also take into account people like Edward Snowden, who called bullshit and was labeled a traitor. He exposed a shit ton of governmental corruption, and yet most of you only know that he is a "traitor" because Fox Motherfucking Asshole Worthless Biased Bullshit News told you so. Or CNN, or MSNBC, or any other "news" agency controlled by corporate interests. These same corporations are the ones who fund the needlessly elaborate and expensive "campaigns" these so called politicians are running. You people eat that shit up, don't ya?
I'm so sick and fucking tired of American elitism. Most of you corn fed dipshits can barely wipe your ass without praying to some asshole in the sky, much less make informed decisions about things like science. You know, science, that thing that is slowly being strangled in America because certain people love to hit it with a god damned book.
Are there good things about America? Dear fucking god yes. I am spoiled purely rotten by the extravagance of this place. I have neat little boxes that show me pretty pictures (often of women doing nasty things), and hopefully these fucking things will make me a living. Still, a bejeweled demon cock is still just a demon cock, no matter how pretty it may be.
How dare you post such a thing so close to Veteran's Day! Don't you care about the troops?
Would you care to explain to me what in the holy fuck supporting the troops has to do with hating this country? Explain to me why I can't fully support the poor souls who are fighting, dying, and loosing themselves just to make a very small group of rich assholes even richer. Fucking explain to me why I can't love and feel immense pride because my nephew is a proud member of the Armed Forces. I hate you people, I hate the technocratic assholes who are fucking everything up, and I probably hate most of the soldiers too. However, I respect them a great deal more than I respect most of you pukes. Unlike most, myself included, they had the god damned balls to pick up a weapon and go get shot at, while being forced to shoot other human beings while basically invading and occupying their country as if they were Roman Legionnaires. Most of them were looking to better themselves, a select few love to kill (and fucking good for them, I mean that), but almost none wanted to travel to a foreign land in some kind of fucked up Crusade where they can loose everything, their minds included. Yet you motherfuckers dare to use them as leverage in your political bullshit. If someone wants to cut defense spending, of which a tiny fraction actually goes to arming and paying troops, in favor of more social programs, then you obviously hate those troops. Yeah? Fuck you.
No one wants to actually help anyone else in this fucking place. Everyone is so wrapped up in themselves and their own wants and "needs" that the thought of actually giving up just a little bit of that so that another human being can eat and survive is preposterous. You mean I'll have to get a 32" TV instead of a 60"? Umbungu can fucking die for all I care! Again. Fuck you, and in this fuck me too.
Well if you don't like it here, why don't you just leave?
Okay you motherfucker, buy myself, my son, and his mother a ticket to another country and I'll gladly see the last of you. I'm not even asking for help once we get there, but just for the trip itself. You see, I didn't choose to be born amongst you nut sacks, and I'd love to go. However, since I was born here I've made something of a life, and have had a son. If you even ask me to separate myself from him I'll cut your goddamned face off and feed it back to you slowly. However, I'd love to get him the fuck out of here as soon as possible, even if it means sleeping on the streets for a while in another place. I'm not saying that place will be any better than here, but at least I can teach him that there are in fact other cultures in the world. Most of them are much older than ours, and many are far better in a number of ways.
So in conclusion, fuck you. Put down your goddamned smartphones, move your fat asses from in front of that massive television, and get busy taking this country back from the corporate elite. Otherwise everything I said here and more will forever stand. I hate you all.
No Title
Kiddies, kitties, women and children, welcome to the long delayed second or third (whatever) installment of Piss Off All the Fuckers.
I don't even know what to be upset about and rave over though, as I'm really, really high. It is what it is...
In fact, I don't intend to piss off all the fuckers today. I shall hunt them down and skin them slowly later, but for now I'll simply remind you of that nice little night light. The one that gives you comfort. Don't let it go out dearies.
The fuckers can wait for another day. Pointless to post this perhaps, but life is nothing if not utterly pointless I'm afraid. Ta ta for now, brutal violence awaits within a video game.
I don't even know what to be upset about and rave over though, as I'm really, really high. It is what it is...
In fact, I don't intend to piss off all the fuckers today. I shall hunt them down and skin them slowly later, but for now I'll simply remind you of that nice little night light. The one that gives you comfort. Don't let it go out dearies.
The fuckers can wait for another day. Pointless to post this perhaps, but life is nothing if not utterly pointless I'm afraid. Ta ta for now, brutal violence awaits within a video game.
Sunday, November 10, 2013
No Title
Hm, cobwebs. Fitting I suppose. He would forget me, but never doubt that I'm still here. He may think me sedated, or indeed vanquished. No, not vanquished. He is smarter than that to be sure. One must know their foe, and I do know him quite well. Quite well indeed.
Never forget the demon lurking in the night. Just because you can't see it, don't dare convince yourself that it isn't there.
We are always here. Always watching. Always waiting. Invariably, our time always comes.
One day the beast will leap from the darkness. It will tackle and devour you, and there will be nothing you can do. You convinced yourself it wasn't there. I am here. Never forget.
Ta ta for now kiddies. Sleep well. Go dig out your kid's night light. You know you want to.
Never forget the demon lurking in the night. Just because you can't see it, don't dare convince yourself that it isn't there.
We are always here. Always watching. Always waiting. Invariably, our time always comes.
One day the beast will leap from the darkness. It will tackle and devour you, and there will be nothing you can do. You convinced yourself it wasn't there. I am here. Never forget.
Ta ta for now kiddies. Sleep well. Go dig out your kid's night light. You know you want to.
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