So dig, this whole life thing, this whole responsibility thing, this whole being happy thing, do you know what it’s all about? You know what I’m saying, there’s those people who do everything right and play by the rules and win by the rules and even when things are bad they say “Hey, it’s ok because life goes on to another day,” and they smile and laugh and sing anyway. What the fuck is the matter with those people?
Or those people who just don’t care and live for themselves and aren’t always necessarily mean or malicious but mind not if me or Mary or Michael or any other motherfuckers move on from this life and melt away into oblivion. How can they do such a thing and be alright? How can anyone do anything at all? How can you let go? How do you give up? How do you say to yourself that this is how this life is and I just have to accept it?
Everywhere is nonsense and the pop cultured masses are dull and dumb and numbed down and care for nothing else as long as their favorite T.V. show has this guest star or this jackass does that and we all hate each other because you’re red or blue, which isn’t even true because we are all the same thing just shoved into different containers. But if that were true, why didn’t I watch the VMA’s last night? Is there something about me that is different, or is it just a different level of the same beast? Who knows? Do you? Is there anything special or unique or different or peculiar or attractive about me, or am I just as fake and phony as the rest? Huh?
But I suppose the point I’m trying to get at isn’t really anything at all, and it is within that nothingness that lies the problem. But I should find comfort in the nothingness. I should find comfort in that fact that my existence means nothing because it is some tiny unseeable speck among this vast and glorious plane of what is and it’s bright and filled with colors and sounds and smells and wonders and it is just that, it is just wonderful. It is awesome and yet my appreciation of it is always hazed and a bit phased because I simply cannot understand.
And the flesh, that never helps. My mortality concerns me greatly. I am such an impermanent thing and it bugs the ever-loving shit out of me. That and the fact that flesh craves other flesh, be it just for contact and the such, or for something deeper, if such a thing exists which I’m doubting on and off a little bit every day because let’s be honest, my results have been quite shitty. But all in all, the temptation is great, but my heart, she always seems to shine through and screw up everything for me, which kinda sucks but maybe one day it won’t. Ya know?