I’m a little weird. Okay, fine, whatever. I sat next to a homeless, or at least he was really good at pretending to be homeless, guy and asked him what he thought of the world and/or the drunken rabble that pretended he wasn’t sprawled out belly up on the street. You know what he told me? He tries not to sin because the bible prophecy stuff is going to come true.
I want to kill everything.
My hope stems from ignorance. It’s with the knowledge that my perspective is limited that there may be whole worlds of potential a mere conversation away. The horrifying truth, the more I put myself out there, the more I ask questions and attempt to adopt “friends’…the more I fucking realize that people are exactly as I assume them to be. The old homeless fuck with barely a grasp of the English language is explicitly and nothing more than an old homeless fuck with barely a grasp of the English language. It doesn’t matter that we made him that way, it just matters that that’s what he is. That’s his impact and “contribution” to what we’ll denote as society.
How do fucking people believe there is a plan? How do you cling to this hope that we are all magic sky fairies who will live forever if we just live by some relative moral code that makes us feel good about ourselves? I genuinely don’t fucking get it at all. You have a purpose? Is it to ignore the empty, pathetic, superstitious dreg of a homeless man I talked to today? You’re so high and mighty and moral that your god will just play things out with this “plan?” and account for Mr. Pathetic Homeless Fuck once we all die? That’s fucking deplorable and morbid.
But, I bid you congratulations, friends of mine. I’m using you as a case study for the whole of humanity. What I think of you will serve as to what I’m to project onto everybody else. If you’re potentially horrified by this prospect, no worries, I’ve taken that into account. Turns out, I’m ever convinced you’re everything I thought of and more, and coincidentally that's just enough for the future tasks at hand. I know, what an honor right?
I really don’t want to know everything. I don’t want to be the ego maniac (necessarily). I don’t want to be too smart for my own good. I don’t want to be as judgmental as your gods on high. In fact, I wish I didn’t give a fuck! I wish you were all tools. I wish you were all just fucking bags of fucking meat who I fuck from time to time to talk to (rant at) and you somehow manage to stay till the end. I wish that all the “necessary conclusions” I drew from incessant thinking about the world and my place in it didn’t have to make the cards fall as they did. And yet, I never fucking escape it. It’s always just as “it is.”
Whether you’re homeless, the hot dog vendor, the drunk frat boy, or the pissed off bar tender, you are EVERY FUCKING THING I could ever think you are. You’re not a surprise. You aren’t an anomaly. You aren’t technically even worth considering past your meager moniker. Take that American idealization of the self! To be clear, I find this utterly demoralizing. It makes me want to just bust down the doors and take over like a Nazi socialist party 2.0.
In the midst of my self-serving fuck everything haven’t you heard how smart I am the world can go fuck itself blog, I should point out how much I’m sick of fucking qualifying everything. NONE of you mother fuckers just bitch. You don’t just sit and complain and really fucking shit out how fucking shitty you may think or feel about something and it makes me fucking insane! For as much as I talk you mother fuckers up, I have not even a handful of mother fuckers who are a willing to “risk” sounding like a belligerent asshole in some blog at the end of a 15c beer night. It’s fucking sad and I wish that would change.
Let’s see how much money I can make in this real estate bullshit and then try and gauge the dent I make in the culture at large in the coming years. I’ll be the first to admit I’m completely full of shit until you can point and exclaim “that nigga did that.” Hopefully one day I’ll transcended the fucker who says fuck too often and you’ll actually feel what the fuck I’m after. Here’s to fucking trying. Clearly, I'm fucking spent thinking about shit so finding some "rut" to distract me for a while might be a nice escape. As if.
