Today, for around the 19,500th time in this existence, we woke up, stretched, got out of bed, voided, nuked water in a cup for coffee, & lit a cigarette. What the hell for?
Why are we living? Why are we still alive? What is the point of existence in a meaningless, random universe, in which we are surrounded with ninnies, fools, idiots, dumbbells, morons, imbeciles, dummkopfs, fuckheads & fascists? (The "we" here is not just the editorial we, but includes all of us who are condemned to consciousness, or mere awareness, surrounded by the sharks of stupidity & piranhas of political putridity.)
ENOUGH, ALREADY!!! WHEN DOES IT STOP, DAMNIT? And why the hell are we expected to put up w/ this fucking bullshit for more than 30 seconds? Huh?
4 comments:
MB, Fucked if I know.
To imply a reason for it would play into the Intelligent Designer portfolio. Unless this really is a test to see if we are good enough to go to the next level, in which case why go through this if you can design a human?
The best we can do is listen what other people say about there being no apparent reason, Robert Johnson, Seamus Heaney, Bob Dylan Dorothy Parker and Janet Frame have all talked about that awful cold clarity that says that THIS IS IT.
I have to look past the ninnys and the fatheads for little moments of beauty that sure as heck are not going to cut it with supernatural beings that can decide my eternal fate, but give me some peace.
Best of luck. This poem, not by me, was helpful to me.
Stopover
by John O'Connor
at a certain point
you become the river
whoever thought
it would come to that?
nobody said
that the journey’s all there is
that the fabled city
you hoped to traverse
doesn’t exist – or not
in the form you thought it did.
let’s say a fishing port
one pub & a backpackers
a steamy caff, relax!
you’ll be somewhere else
before you know it
Sorry if this pisses you off. I ain't real good at sharing.
Existential Agony/Teen-Age Angst Editor States Firmly:
Just kidding, really. Perfectly comfortable w/ the random, meaningless universe (wouldn't have it any other way) just a bit bored w/ it this early p. m.
We like to pretend we carry the existential weight of the world on our shoulders. Makes us feel better when we surrender to the bastards: "Have to put this load down somewhere. Oh, was that your foot?"
In all seriousness, as we've been in our own rented dump for a mere three & a half mos., following 14 of them spent sleeping outside & then in motels, we've no reason to complain. We just like to keep our hand in the bitching & moaning, & why complain about anything less than existence itself?
We all will be somewhere else before we know it. And that may be good.
Not p. o.'d in the least; our sharing skills are horrid, so we understand & appreciate the effort.
Cheers! Or Ta! Or whatever y'all say.
Hey, don't disparage sharks. At least they have a needed place in the food chain and in evolutionary biology, unlike humans who reproduce just to torture their offspring.
P.
Maritime Editor Answers:
Metaphorical sharks. (That's what we get for trying to type anything but simple "old journalism.") Not bad eating, either.
Amazing how one can stay in one's brick-lined bunker for days on end, yet things as inane as cyber-drones & telebision gasbags can get one's hatred of/boredom w/ humanoids to levels seldom seen before.
Not yet chosen an identity on the new robot?
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