Sacrifice it.
Fuck you happy people. Or so it seems. Is anyone really happy day in day out? I used to think that was the case. Then I grew up and learned that adults are all messed up and always miserable. They just hide that stuff from the children. Man, head trip.
What drives me everyday to make myself into something? What takes the bag of bones out of bed every morning and breathes motivation into it? The hope that my life, my actions, my goofiness can invigorate some kind of amusement in others. I’m not too cool, I’m not all about the dough, I’m not a happy go lucky yokel. No, fuck it, I’m going to be fucking weird and make some people I know happy. Make everyone amused, slightly. That’s the new age. That’s what a baby or puppy video is all about. Are they grandiose truths etched together over ten years by a brilliant but troubled soul? Fuck that. They are bursts of pleasure. They tip the day’s scale of happy/sad.
What truths do I need to find? Fuck truth. It’s out there. Let someone else go boldly looking for it. If I ever come across truth, may it be random, may I be hammered and stumbling and may I mistake it for a yard sale. The truth is, I could use a good paperback.
What the bloodsuckers don’t realize is how often it’s only about helping yourself, and if I’m going to help myself, I’m going to help others. Not help society. Not help a company. Not feed some homeless people. I mean people that I care about. It’s about reach. Who’s out there you can make feel special? Stop looking in the mirror. Digging a pit of self pity and centric spacial relations is that path paved by the media mongrels who want you to buy things. That’s why if your ass is sagging, you have to buy shape-ups. They will literally help you “shape-up” your life. It’s a fucking metaphor, don’t you get it? Almost everything marketed is meant to allow the consumer to feel special, self-conscious and self-centered so that they’ll buy it. So, ok, the bloodsuckers get it, but they don’t have it right. Don’t listen to the bloodsuckers. Fuck vampires.
Pride? Fuck it. Sacrifice it. It’s the key to happiness.
