A poem I wrote ended with the line, "Surrender control and the universe will respond to the nature of your soul". I held onto this mantra, probably because I liked the way it sounded.
I've been doing a lot of reading lately, along with less drinking, more sleeping etc. And I think it's turning me into a hostile person. Isn't this the opposite of the desired effect? Anyways, an unfortunate side effect of aforementioned activities is thinking. And when thinking interferes with the ability to smell the roses over piss soaked streets, a release is in order.
Prepare for the release.
That's what he said.
I'm pretty confident that the leading cause of everything that's wrong in the world can be traced back to one specific problem: People are too nice to their kids. Too many shitkickers grow up feeling special. You're not special. No one is special. At least not any more special than me. Which brings me to the most important message this blog will communicate (yeah, not in an intro OR conclusion, suck on THAT, English teachers.) I am better than you. If that offends you, then it has reached its intended audience.
Too many Jonny Jinglenuts thrive on that loving extra scoop because "hey kid, you deserve it!' But asshole children grow up to be asshole adults. And not the good kind either. (that's me-duh). No, the kind that walk around with giant asshole faces, hands out thinking the world owes them something.
How arrogant are humans? I'll tell you how arrongant. We keep birds as pets. We show up on this planet and give everything a name. We want the world to sing us songs while we obnoxiously talk over eachother. We want. We want. We want that cash-in for an extra scoop. We want an answer. We want it Now.
The answer is there is no answer. The problem is that we can't handle that answer. We will chase our own tail in circles until we die before stopping to smell our own ass and consider that maybe, just maybe, the world does not owe us an answer. The world does not owe us anything.
So maybe the universe does not respond to the nature of your soul. And that's okay.
The universe thinks you're ugly anyways.
Confused? Get comfortable.