Living life as it should be

[Sepia]

This is about the city. It's about the filth and shit and the vermin. It's about humans. It's about Pavlov and his dogs.

It isn't about hope. It isn't about love. It isn't about beauty and it isn't about illusions, it's not about fnords and it sure as hell isn't about discordianism.

We can't all be eris.

Tick tick tick as we drive through the madness that's forever fornicating in our local newsstands, the dawn of mankind they say, that's when the shiznit hit it, that was the time when we should have been alive some say while others jump uneasily into the corner saying THATS WHEN THE DINOSAURS LIVED and every weekend and every day perhaps we go home to these fuckers, halfdrunk but never enough but he says he has more, he says he has something that'll blow our minds so far out of the water we don't ever want to touch alcohol again, never want to touch any drug whatsoever for we'll be so fucking blown out of the water that we don't know what way is up, what way is down and he's pasty and pastry with a complete lack of chin but with long jetblack hair, recently dyed and I'm getting drunker as we walk home to the guy and we sit down in his little ikea shithole, giddy with anticipation and he's one of those fuckers asking if we want tea before he presents his merchandise and while he's boiling the fucking water and i'm not drunk enough to say that he shouldn't and i'm not drunk enough to slap my legs on his table and demand something that'll blow my mind completely and annihilate it all, oblivion is where I want now and he does this tea ritual like he's some kind of old chinese poet, treating the china with reverence before he puts on some old roswell tape from the early nineties and it's so tacky and so is he.

I fall asleep.

The anti-climatic yesterday brings me out into the street, out among the beggars, drunks and businessmen, the only people awake this time of morning. I've never liked beggars, drunks or businessmen. Beggars because I've never known any that wasn't backstabbing thieves, drunks because they're too fucking boring and businessmen are a mix of the both. The salt of the earth.

No. This doesn't work. This is not who they are.

They are the filth and the whores and the thieves and shits of this world, they are the vermin, spaced out enough that you'll get your dose before getting home, a brain filled with rancid waste and

This doesn't work either. It feels like there's misery underlying, there's a story to be told, an interesting story to be known.

There is none. People may have stories to tell but as 99.xx% forgot they're buddha and I'm waging that the same percentage doesn't know how to tell their lifestories or any story interesting at that. There's nothing to say about them for we all know about them. Anyone with half a brain can see beyond the veil, watch that which is there and not what they want to have there. Illusion = impotence. We have no idea what we're doing, scraping our brains off of half coordinated gestures, blushing at the walls we built for ourselves so that we could do like good old peer gynt, we could go to the left or the right but never straight through, never straight to.

It's okay. I mean really, I've laid a few bricks on that wall myself. We've all been afraid for stupid shit. This is dangerous, because we've been afraid and we've learned, yeah we've learned, past past past past past past, we haven't learned jackshit for the future. We've understood that the mechanisms for fear are the same mechanisms for love, hate and every other feeling out there, just with different patterns of interpretation. We've learned that there's really nothing to fear when asking a girl out for a date, we've learned that there's really nothing to fear when we're going 110 heading for a tree.

We've gotten perspective on it but we haven't gotten a perspective on our lives as we wallow in fear but things we don't recognize as fear, new things or simply shit that has an added component we like so much that we disregard any other mechanics. BLIND MOTHERFUCKERS BLIND.


I'm so tired now, I think I sleep 14 hours a day. It's that time of year again but there's no snow but the snow made it all brighter, made it more beautiful, coated everything with a layer of illusion that has no agenda. Humanity has failed at whatever mission. Pick one and it's failed it. From trying to evolve into celestial gods or just learning how our fucking thumbs work, we've failed. We were trying to do something here on this globe but travelling salesmen came by and gave us baubles.

We sure love ourselves some baubles and what we love even more is when history repeats itself as it's so fucking comfortable, we've read the books we know what happens and like we build ourselves a cubicle of fear first day at the office before getting comfortable, we do it again. Just because it's the same thing. Now they're saying we're specializing. Facilitating. Innovating.

We're not. We're shooting ourselves in our feet, forgetting that we're bleeders.

[Cainad (dec.)]

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