So I’m one of those cool kids. As in,
I can “understand” where the other cool kid is coming from and
reach this copacetic middle ground where we mutually respect each
other’s place in life. Except, fuck them.
For as much as I run a little ringer on
people, I really can’t stand when people try to turn it on me. I’m
good with being a hypocrite as far as shit’s concerned. Where do
you get off me calling you on what you’re doing and your refusal to
acknowledge that I’ve seen through you’re little scheme. You
little bitch lol.
I feel like I am perpetually open to
misrepresentation. It’s frankly habit by now. It really doesn’t
matter what you say or how you say it, people will decide to
understand you in their terms, and it’s your responsibility to
“respect” those terms and follow some form of suit.
Why do I crash “random” peoples’
conversations?
I’m not seeking something new. I
don’t think I’m going to learn of some perspective. I really feel
like I do it so I can feel sad. So I can connect with the tumultuous
failings of people and sort of “re-up” just how fucked it is to
think differently than I do.
It sucks because I really feel bad for
people. Weird right? I’m all “fuck you and shit” and yet I have
this like pain in my stomach that’s like “this can’t be all.”
I don’t like other alleged “cool
kids.”
My disposition isn’t terribly of
choice. I feel like I got here from thinking too goddamn much and
over intellectualizing a process that is only concern with whether or
not you manager to nut enough times in some chicks vagina. But at the
same time, there’s some semblance of respect given the implications
of acting like some amoral node that disregards what it means to be
human.
I do get angry. Like, super angry. And
I really don’t know how to translate that in a way that doesn’t
make it “personal.” Because, it kind of is, but in a more
important way really isn’t. I don’t pretend like I’m better.
I’m not on some thrown. I’m just confused that we don’t do what
makes the most sense. And ya, it pisses me the fuck off.
Just talking to this Indian kid about
his experience with relationships tonight is enough. It’s so
unbelievably sad. There is no guidebook from taking him out of how
bad he’s been fucked. And he’s going to make decisions about life
and love from how he got shit on as a teenager. My god. The idea that
we’re literally handicapped by the stupid shit we may or may not
encounter as kids…
As long as people aren’t happy, fuck
us. I don’t want a species to keep on and evolve that’s
perpetually sad and despotic. The reasons I don’t believe in us is
because of our default attitudes toward life. For every optimist
you’ll find a hundred thousand circumstantial pessimists It’s not
conversation and logical debate that changes them. I feel hopelessly
naïve in believing they might’ve worked.
The secret is not killing yourself. If
you find a platform to do what you do that overwhelms the objectively
reasonable positions you may take on ending your time here, you may
as well be a “god.”
It’s hard to
swallow how stupid you are. Like, why the fuck bother inventing words
and thinking about things, right? But, at the end of the day, you
just have your stupid ideas and your stupid reasons that pretend to
grasp the entirety of your position.
