Whatever floats your boat...
confusion as a pedestal for insight- seeing with a madman's clarity on the late night.
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.
Onward.
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.
Alas.
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.
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.
Onward.
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.
Alas.
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.
Views: 23
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Comment by Kat.Ballou on May 23, 2009 at 12:42pm
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wisest is she who knows she does not know!
and also, suckit chig.
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Comment by spacemonkey1310 on May 23, 2009 at 3:26pm
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Comment by BlancheNoE on May 23, 2009 at 3:42pm
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If I was speaking to my spoiled brat of a son, I'd e-mail him a link to this.
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Comment by photo2010 on May 23, 2009 at 5:32pm
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Kat.Ballou wrote: "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 as the desired effect?"
I don't think it's the opposite of the desired effect necessarily. Life is a process, maybe you've got to get through some hostile feelings to get where you want to be, and alcohol can mask all that. Interestingly, I've known more people who BECOME hostile or combative when drunk. I also know some people walking around with asshole faces.
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Comment by Dreamcatcher on May 23, 2009 at 6:50pm
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Man, I see in fight club the strongest and smartest men who've ever lived. I see all this potential, and I see squandering. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off.
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This is your life and it's ending one minute at a time.
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You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. You're not your fucking khakis. You're the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world
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Listen up, maggots. You are not special. You are not a beautiful or unique snowflake. You're the same decaying organic matter as everything else.
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Now a question of etiquette; as I pass, do I give you the ass or the crotch...?
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@ DC - words to live by man. Well except the last one.
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