I feel like before I die I should ever
be striving to convey what I consider to be the truth of my
disposition. Foremost because I think it has longstanding
implications for your disposition. I don’t want people to be
confused. I don’t want you to read my other despotic or seemingly
judgmental blogs with the wrong back drop. There’s just a
fundamental state I maintain that I think needs to be celebrated.
I have no problems. I don’t hesitate
to type it. When I’m bitching about your relationship or life or
some confusion, it amounts to “existential angst.” I cannot
complain. Another idea I’d like to beat into the ground and restate
in everything I ever write; I have peaked. I’m healthy, fed, and
intellectually quelled with a roof over my head. I do and always
remember my place in lieu of the rest of the world.
The problem is in how people perceive
this. You get a lot of jealousy. Like, “why the fuck do you
think you’re so happy!?” And I think this has everything to do
with missing the point. I call life a game. It’s an exercise. It’s
a learning experience. It’s the consequences of cause and effect.
It’s not about me, or you, or any one thing you want to base you
pathetic conception on. I have fun with it. I play with it. I know
that if it were over tomorrow, I was playing the game I wanted to
play.
It’s what I hope to change when I get
more influence. I want more people to realize that no one is like
you. Your perspective has something important for the world at large.
No one is going to sound like me. While there are business leaders I
idolize and comedians that speak so closely to what I would say on
stage, nobody says it or does it like me. Therefore, my message and
method is important and has consequence and can impact in potentially
significant ways provided I’m speaking to what we all know and
think, but speaking to it in my way.
I wish you would think of your life as
not having problems. It’s such an unnecessary burden to bog your
day or psyche down with bullshit that doesn’t speak to anything.
Like, if I feel anxiety, it’s about how I’m going to react to
something. Do I beat the ever loving fuck out of you or make a smart
ass comment or maybe just shut the fuck up and turn away. I’m not
genuinely worried about anything. I’m more concerned with the
message I sent and the conception I’d have to defend about myself
given a scenario.
I just can’t wait. I really can’t
wait. Provided I don’t up and die randomly in a car crash, I cannot
wait for the stage. The opportunity to be me or speak me or lay it
out like I’m desperately waiting to hear it be said will be a
fucking thrill. And I hope I have you laughing. I hope the mother
fuckers that know me are like “haha I bet he..OH SHIT HE JUST and
are cracking their shit up while the world spends their time judging
and re-characterizing. I’d get off on the idea of confusing the
fuck out of people or rattling the cages of those not in the know.
It’s around the fucking corner. Get
excited.
