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The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.
I can feel it coming. That blackness, the dark mental excrement flood that hits me when I'm still and thinking to myself about all the crap in my life I've done or never did. Mostly it's just the past and people. A missed opportunity, some chance to take advantage of a lost moment, make a witty comeback, kiss the girl, buy the stock, not punch my boss in the face, wear the condom, make a left instead of a right..and so on. It wouldn't even make sense to anyone else who would read it or listen to me try and explain it. Seeing as how you are reading this now, I'll give it a shot. I'll have to warn you though, if you're looking for something coherent and precise, move the fuck on. Basically it goes like this.
I can't be comfortable being still and thinking to myself.
Things tend to get too real when I'm still and sober. Reality sets in and can't help but fight to try and escape it. I'm not losing my mind, I've lost it a long time ago. I gave up my freedom and caged myself in with my own deeds. All the shit I should be doing to enrich my life and take the proper path to the end of the road..makes me sick. I fight it, like a mad drunken Irish boxer going for the title shot. I could let myself become
just like everyone else and not only get the house mortgage, the car loans, but also the children and all the rest of the domestic responsibilities of the average American male. The thought of it makes me sick and scared at the same time. When I see that everything around me is all geared towards one thing, the family unit and all the time and money that goes into making one..I want to puke.
You're born, you learn how to walk, speak and not shit yourself. You learn about your species history and culture, society in general and how to function properly in that society. You have relationships with people and members of the opposite sex in order to learn how to deal with your fellow humans and have sex with them. You get educated, you learn a skill, you work at a job for a means of exchange that you use to pay for food clothing, shelter and transportation. You buy products and attended social events to attract a mate, you get together, reproduce and co- habitate. You purchase more products to fill your domicile with modern conveniences and consumables. Everything about your home is business for other members of the community. You need clothes, someone makes them, foods, windows, plumbing, home theaters, dish liquid, carpet, frying pans, couches, wood, steel, brick, motor oil.....you name it, you buy it and use it at home...contributing to the overall cyclic , communal society.
The great news is, anything you want you can have for the right price. The bad news is...no matter what you own..no one is different, no one is special, no one is any more unique then anyone else. We all still pretend and love to fool ourselves in believing that we are special, we are different. Go ahead and say it - "I'm me......no one is like me..that's crazy." Just because you say it out loud a few times doesn't make it true. It's the most beautiful lie we've ever bought into..and we do it everyday.
Even I do everything I can to perpetuate this lie..but sometimes I sober up and realize just how pathetic things really are. It's then that I have to fight my instincts and stay calm. I remain cool and try not to stand out by standing up and yelling out "FUCK YOU!..I'm not buying your shit! I'm NOT like you, I AM different, I AM special, I AM unique!" Even if I did, I know I'd eventually slump down and sigh inside because I know it's not true. If I did actually fight it, I'd get called an anti-conformist, a loser, a crazy person..whatever label we love to slap on people who aren't walking the thin conformist line. Lets just be honest here, I'm never going to be famous, never going to be rich, never going to be completely happy with just being me and am going to wind up on my deathbed knowing my life was one full of regrets and mistakes...which will in turn... again.... make me just like everyone else.
I'm so looking to forward to that. yay!
So then why try? Why go out and bust my ass to make more money, buy more stuff, get caught up in the race to have the most toys and the biggest house, the 2.5 kids, dog and high tech household appliances? Sweet chocolate Christ!! I hate everything and everyone. I seriously do. I just pretend to be a decent guy now and then to get what I want for the moment. Meanwhile inside my head, after I've asked for another cup of coffee for the second time and you've ignored me..I've beaten the life from you with my fists, dragged your
body to my trunk, dismembered you in the basement and buried you... before you've had the time to ignore me again..or give me the wrong fucking thing ..again. In my head ..regularly.. I probably kill about 10 people a
day. If I've left the house for anything other then work and dared to go out in public amongst the consumerist mutants that roam the streets of my city, I knowingly put myself at risk. I know I'll run into the sheepish zombies armed with credit cards that are connected to the hive mind by blu tooth cellphones, IPod ear buds and have a blood lust for red tag sales.
I mange to fend off the first few with out a second glance. The mobile ones can be tricky. Driving cars too big for even the largest of the species to maneuver properly. They drive as though it's a race to get to the destination first and everyone else on the road is the competition. Multitaskers.. weaving in and out of traffic without a signal, ranting to the cellular implant and downing another dose of sugar and complex carbohydrates. You can see them circling the parking lot and stalking other mutants for a spot that is less then 15 meters from the door. The last thing any pure bred consumerist mutant wants to do ..is have to walk across a parking lot. The morbidly obese ones are the hardest to not notice. The females, clad in sweat suits with embroidered reindeer and be-dazzler sparkles, have their hair cut butch short and are usually holding a small child by the forearm while delivering repeated swats to it's backside as it wails in futility. The young mutant spawn, who himself is sporting an X-box/fast food physique, stands on his tip toes with a hand layed across his rear..as if that would protect him from the large meaty claw of his angered progenitor. I will say this though, sometimes seeing them beat each other in public can be very amusing.
Then there are the self talkers. These are an off shoot of the consumerist mutant virus that seems to be spreading and cross breeding with the other various strains. More and more frequently, as I find myself out and about in the heart of the mutant lands, I run into them. You can see them anywhere, a small metal device clutched in one hand and pressed against the side of their head. Speed walking the isles hopped up on a dope fiends mixture of caffeine, taurine, sugar and prescription medication. All the while their eyes dart frantically back and forth scanning the shelves with laser like efficiency, while walking, pushing a cart and debating the sincerity of a desperate house wife. Mostly it's the newer versions, with tiny bits of electronica attached to their heads. You'll see them walking around and muttering to themselves about what to buy for who, which Super - Mart store has a sale on the 2 gallon jugs of salsa. It wasn't too far back that when people walked around talking to themselves..we locked em up, much less allowed them to walk around a shopping store and loudly blather on and on about who's fucking who at the office, or whether or not little Johnny should be on kiddy Prozac.
When it comes to observing the mutants, I would have the say that the most interesting ones are the males that happened to get sucked into following the females as they hunt and gather for the family unit. The glazed over look in his eye, slack jawed and sluggish jerky movements. He might even have a young spawnling strapped to his chest or a designer handbag slung over his shoulder.. further evidence of his having been turned into a member of the walking, mutant, consumerist dead. With his ego stripped, manhood and pride checked, he's capable of living out the rest of his life under the thumb of his mate. He'll gladly slave away at a job he hates to make just enough to provide for everyone else, grow old and get sick, become a financial burden to his children ...then die and have them inherit his debts.
Seeing as how we are all alike, I'm sure you've been there. You've stood in line at your favorite Mart store and
dreamed of hacking the head off of the semi senile retiree or high school slacker at the register. Completely oblivious to your scheduling issues, yet thinks that if he scans the item for an eighth time..it'll work...then eventually flick on some light or use the the mic to call for help. I've mentally killed
my fair share of those as well. Actually no one is safe from the homicidal, mutant hunting maniac in my head. He has zero tolerance for incompetence in public, and is more then happy to unleash intricately creative death upon all who dare attempt to give me hassle or waste my precious and limited life span.
When I'm not busy, mentally jabbing various sharp objects into the eyes of anyone who works behind a counter, I spend my time being jealous of what others have and sicked by it. Why the fuck do I want what you
have? Why do I have this need inside of me to make myself into that which I detest? Will having it all make me happy inside? Will having the cool house and more stuff then whoever else I know, fill the hole in my head?
I know people who have more then enough and some who have too much. Other then having the ability to buy whatever the fuck they want, they're mostly arrogant assholes. Spend enough time around this particular breed of mutant and you'll eventually hear one complain. After a few drinks they're ready to lament life's woes and confide to you that they may have to sell the beach house and trade in the boat for a jet ski. They might have to pull little Suzy out of Montessori school, stop eating out at the Indy hot spots and stick good old fashion chain family style restaurants..or god forbid..starting cooking at home. They'll have to golf at a public course, trade in the sports car for an S.U.V., not vacation in the islands this year and only go to New York..again. The whole time, as I listen, I'm fighting the urge to vomit and do my best to choke back the little bits of puke the make their way up to the back of my throat. I do my best to nod in agreement and manage to give the occasional wince when appropriate...as if to say "I care about what you're saying and empathize with you in your concerns."
I'm already an arrogant asshole ...having a fuck ton of cash would only make me worse..I'm sure of it.
Gee, thanks America.
It's the peaks and valleys of being me. Up for a few days then down so deep I want to destroy everything and anyone just to try and get back up and feel better. Sometimes life is so obvious that it's almost a complete let
down. As though it's a movie you've seen a million times. Now..sure you still like it...but there's no spontaneity, it's lost it's charm and ability to get you excited. You know how it ends and what everyone will say and do along the way...yet you don't have any choice but to keep watching life's train wreck.
I've seen and know enough that ..almost everything becomes depressingly transparent. It's like a magic trick that at first seemed spectacular, then once you've learned how it works you feel cheated and ashamed that you where fooled by something so simple. When I was young the world seemed like the Land of OZ, mysterious, unknown and full of unlimited potential and possibilities. Now that I'm older...I know who the man behind the curtain is..and I want to stomp him in the nuts, feed him his teeth then blow his brains out the back of his head.
Knowing too much about people, society, individual psychology and governments..it's all just depressing as fuck. Sure there are small lights of joy here and there, love, sex, music, prescription drugs, art, a sunny day..but
I can't just walk around smelling the flowers when I'm surrounded by a trash heap of shit. I have creative bursts, I have moments of happiness, thoughts and feelings that seem genuine at the moment,,but it's all fought for and planned.
Planned happiness is like going to the zoo. "OOOOH look! a monkey...yay!" You go there , you look at all the animals, ooh and ahh like some kind of mentally deficient who stepped off the short bus. Then it's over and when you leave all you can think about on the ride home is that poor fucking monkey trapped in that damn glass box for his whole miserable life. Planned happiness, you plan it, you do it, then it's over and reality is waiting right there to give you a swift round house kick in the face when you're done. That is unless of course..you're a mutant , taking everything at face value and are incapable of deep and complex thoughts.
The good, the bad and the ugly. The good is, you're alive..you can make choices, listen to the music, see the sun shine, and kiss her. The bad is ..you're just like everyone else, and no matter how hard you try to be special
and different ..you just end up being more like everyone else. The ugly is...there isn't shit you can do to stop it...and in the end all you'll get for your hard work...is death.
So in order to not sit and think about all the above..I have to find things to do. I drink, I eat, I fuck, I play video games that let me kill things, I work out, I watch a movie...I guess I'm living an escapist life style. Constantly running from the inevitable disgusting truth of it all. Looking for my next fix to bide time and take my focus off the facts...a new grind for my mind.
Wow...wtf? K..back to pretending to be sane and happy.
HAVE A GREAT DAY!... you polished piece of American shit.