heres the scenario: I date girl, best friend goes behind my back and fucks girl, we (me and best friend, and me and girl ‘obviously” tards) stop being friends completely, I reconcile with old “friend” after 9 months or so, he moves to a far away land to be with his beloved (naive child), I found out shes about to have his child.
Now I know that this SOUNDS like a good ole American white trash dream and indeed im sure there was PBR and basic cable involved at some point..BUT this is the truth in a nutshell.
Now I could make several well-rounded points about the dangers of hipsters mating, or the disgusting after-math of sub-human douche nozzles being afforded the right to mash their overly-used (probably disease-ridden at some point) genitals into each other in the hope that they can justify the others “I really do love you” confession.
However, this particular, and what would seem abhorrent display of the faggy reproducing with the weak, makes me realize instead that the inevitability of karma fucking you is ever present.
Yet, I feel no solace.
dont get me wrong, I have great people in my life and Im working on great things. Thus, I should be pretty happy.
But Id be lying if I said I never wanted bad things for those two. and now that they are having a child I sort of see that they were meant to fuck each others lives up.
YOU’D THINK ID BE HAPPY!!!
Instead I cant stop thinking about how they seem to be happy about it..I know its not true, I mean their live are over in the traditional sense, but I cant shake the feeling that they have somehow progressed and Im just dickin around in the same mudhole….
I wish so many bad things for them personally (because im immature…and human)…but I really, truly want nothing but the best for that kid…
thats a pretty weird feeling to have…to want the best for an unborn child and simultaneously want to punch the bitch carrying it in the stomach.
mehhhh…im sure Ill knock some girl up in a year or two and have bigger fish to fry (or fetuses to share). or fuck…maybe Ill actually accomplish something and not pollute the earth with miniature versions of myself and then act like its something to be proud of.
I drive a good 20 minutes to work everyday and 20 minutes from. thats 40 minutes a day. at 5 days a week (minimum) thats 200 minutes (ofcourse I used a calculator, im not a fucking scientist) I have to do one of three things: listen and sing to CD’s that I rarely swap out for a “fresher” sound, make a phone call, or think.
In the name of mental rehabilitation and what I am sure is a result of a sort of anxious frustration..the kind that has been known to prolapse colons, I have been devoting much more time to the “thinking” 1/3 of my road time efficiency pie chart.
Now, these miniature self administered therapy sessions usually start with me racking the pleasure center of the funny hemisphere of my brain (not a FUCKING scientist). However, as any comedian worth his vicodin will tell you, you cant force da funny. It is just really bad form and you come out sounding like the douche from junior high that thought he was funny because he was the first kid to discover Talk Soup so he did his best Hal Sparks “Im too far in the closet so Ill use nonsensical quips to throw the scent off the gay trail” impression.
What this inevitably leads to is me saying “what the fuck are you doing?”
How is it that I got to a place where I hate what I do? I feel like I start a hundred things and finish none of them. I have so much creativity and drive bottled up with nowhere for me to ejaculate it on and above all else I cant find any kind of direction to take my frustration in. Nothing to put it towards in the hopes that I may use it for productivity.
I have been beating my head against any hard surface I can find for months just honing and narrowing down little, tiny, issues that I deal with daily that I may better understand or more clearly see a path to the great yellow brick road yet very little in the way of satisfaction comes my way.
And today it hits me.
Very quickly, a few months back I went through a shitty situation. A terrible tale ripe with greed, sex, affairs, broken hearts, and enough crying to constitute the Lifetime original that will finally propel Valerie Bertinelli to the silver screen.
Without recapping this just-too-Nora-Roberts love lost. I will say that it is, to this day, the hardest personal hurdle I have had to overcome.
In pertaining to this little tome. What I am most concerned with is HOW I dealt with it.
I had for a long time, and like almost everyone on this plane of existence at some point in their lives, been of the mind that when things are good you really have things aligned and you can see for miles ahead of you and when things are bad you have to get your shit back together and try to find your feet again. Imagine being on a ships mast on a clear day and then poseidon butt-fucks your schooner with his trident of spite. You would have to rebuild in order to get back on your mast and see past the storm.
PURE ARROGANCE! Nothing but a naivety that should be shaken at its first sign of indignant, lamprey-esque attachment to you. To say things like “I have things going in the right direction” is to believe that you have control beyond the present. It is difficult to wrap your head around the idea that truly ANYTHING can happen in the flash of a second, but you dont have to be afraid of it. You just have to tweak how you think about being alive. You hear things like “live for the moment”. I wont be shoving any of that gypsy garble down your throat. But what I will say is its ok to not know. If you can live with integrity, why do you need direction? (not to be confused with goals)
Im not quite at an acceptance stage. Nothing so revelational that you couldnt read in a thousand books. But, what I do have is a better understanding of just how easy it is to find fulfillment and where to look for it.
You see, 200 minutes a week of thinking time is hardly anything when you look at some of your favorite writers, painters, and musicians. But it was just enough to push me out of the ever long cycle of “dumb shit years” that many people never graduate from.
In closing, my little “growing” session I had stemmed greatly from my passion for creativity and eagerness to be more than who I am.
Now I see why I believe that creation is our greatest conquest.
So its been a while since I’ve written anything. Interestingly enough this was my motivation for writing this. Not so much that I wanted to write for writings sake or that I felt any kind of obligation to myself or my two (count ‘em) two followers whom I dont particularly know but assume are sexy enough to get me somewhat chubbed.
The motivation came from something I noticed in my day-to-day cycle of working, drinking, and masturbating…We readily, and happily, choose not to control our obsessions.
I dont mean just fondling yourself secretly on the F train from 28th and broadway, although it certainly qualifies, I would never try to control that or care so much as to complain about it. What I am talking about is a sicker perversion. One that we all live and hate ourselves for but most of us would rather microwave our genitals than put forth the effort to change.
I am talking about this maddening sickness of complacency. A reckless abandonment of “Knowledge in pursuit of happiness”. In any given second, out of the 6 billion people on this beach ball there are approximately 4 billion whose furthest thought from that current moment is the next step in front of them. The only reason 1.5 billion other people are thinking further ahead is because they just discovered the cinematic blessing of pornography the night before and cant wait to get home and give blacklights a reason to still exist.
Where the hell did the thirst for knowledge go? Where is the curiosity of our being? Why is it that when people “grow up” their imaginations are squashed by reason and logic? and I guess the biggest question of all is: Why are we so intent on being right that we cant learn from being wrong?
The latter of the questions above was sparked from the recent dick measuring and anal rapings that have been taking place in the GOP as of this voting season. Let me just touch real quick on this. I think it is important to point out the irony that the loudest and most active demographic in political movements (18-25) is also the most uninformed and wildly stupid. Now, before your assholes protrude from blind rage, let me just go on record as saying that I think all of you, regardless of age, have the power to be equally stupid ( you proved this with occupy wall st.). However, a larger portion of people who can maintain a good balance of knowledge and reason happen to be older. Ill write more on this later.
In closing, its so important to live your life outside of twitter and wasteoflifebook and the internet in general. Technology is amazing and I am just as addicted to it as anyone. However, if we continue to immerse ourselves in fantasies and online obsessions and smarter phones, we are going to lose our grips on our humanity. Information is the life of the party and its so readily available at the click of a button. Dr. Ian Malcom from Jurassic Park was worried that “…it didnt take any discipline to attain the knowledge…you stand on the backs of geniuses and you patented it” I have to say I am worried about that too.
I am no writer. I lack vision most of the time and using metaphors is not my strong suit. I dont expect I will be removing the wool from anyones eyes nor enlightening anyone to the 7th level of heaven.
Lets be as real as we can be. People can be classified into many groups and under many different and equally correct circumstances and genres. There is only one shared trait amongst all of these groups, circumstances, and genres.
That is, ofcourse, that people are incredibly and unequivocally stupid.
Do not misinterpret me here. I understand and assume full responsibility for myself being amongst the ranks of the ungodly that find more comfort in the red notification box at the top of their facebook homepage as opposed to putting foot-to-ass for my country or nose-to-grindstone for a better future.
I find myself, like many, infuriated and frustrated with things like finding a better job, republicans and democrats playing party politics while we pay for the cable to watch them do it, and getting laid enough in the hopes that it will make the reality of spinning my wheels to live paycheck to paycheck seem worth it.
My point here is this: If we feel so strongly about our politics, our country’s freedoms, the gift of being able to tell people to their face that they can go fuck themselves, or our ability to invest millions into whatever shitty single Rhianna did featuring four other less talented “musicians” then why is casting your ballot every four years or hanging a “support our troops/whatever cause you clearly dont care that much about” loopy shit-of-an-ornament magnet on your car as far as you are willing to go in order to secure whatever future it is you want.
Be as pissed as you want about whatever circumstances get you half-chubbed but for the love of god be creative about it. Channel your lazy “blame everything on everyone else” attitude and join a cause or write a song or get Rick Perry a speech therapist or send Mitt Romney a flaming bag of kitten shit. Better yet paint the good ole stars and stripes on your dick and use that to punch your next ballot just DO SOMETHING.
Get motivated to be part of the world and share it with other dumb people. Remember the larger the group the dumber it is, so be yourself and for the love of god SOMEBODY use their dick to punch a ballot!
