Anger and Expectations

Those who boast that they live without regrets are liars.

What’s in a failed expectation? Is it more personal, or is it more observed or inflicted? These thoughts are what drives forward the inevitable response- idle. Idle thoughts. Stagnant. Time continues to pass regardless of  consequence. Time passes and with each second it drags on, it takes a fraction of life with it. A grain of vigor, slowly it takes them one by one, millisecond by millisecond until there is aught but dust.

Time appears to have come with a goal. Or an expectation. One who is short on time desires more and vice-versa. It is something that visits everyone, takes from everyone. Living in the moment is an insult to those who live truthfully. To exist in a moment is better, far better. Imagine existing in the moment. Imagine the power of living in one place at one time: sentience, physicality, and faith, all aligned in one spot. Aligned and ready to exist.

Expectations are forced upon the living and the dead from the day air rushes into our lungs for the first time, and then after the final breath struggles free and beyond. There is no time because we measure it.

As life progresses, one often accumulates problems and baggage. It is expected for the well to become sick. It is expected for the sick to die. It is expected for the dying to live. The phrase, the word, the concept; it’s the expectation that ruins everything.

There will never be a way to make another person satisfied with personal progress not tied to their own. There will always be a lingering feeling of repair and dissonance. And as this distance is confirmed with fear and suspicion, the motive may be different, but the damage has been done. Accomplishment is no longer lauded among humans. It is envied and demeaned. Failure is never seen as a learning experience. It as seen as the worst possible thing one can ever suffer. Accomplishment no longer paints with a broad brush. Rather, a system of “modern” accomplishment is inflicted, forcing others to adhere to what is generally accepted as “progressive.”

Singular people must gauge their progress based on what is accepted. A personal struggle means nothing. It is overlooked because overcoming such a challenge is often not tangibly lucrative. If one is not making money through work or personal progress, one is failing as far as this planet is concerned. Expectations. They are unrealistic. The only thing that can be expected in this life often comes too quickly to be avoided. There are no. Real. Expectations in this world except for the ones that we invent to guide ourselves.

Kill the Rich and Eat the Cruel

Humans are sad sacks of pathetic pontificating shit putty that one can mold in an variety of ways if the mind is weak and stupid enough (it always is in humans). The apathy at which the modern human views itself and its environs is disturbing- more accurately it is a benchmark for human success. How much can a human shut out to accomplish a goal? To perform in a job? Well, that’s easy. It’s easy to watch a human sacrifice what matters most to it just because someone else has told them they had to. They had to for the good of their careers, a career which was obtained to support a family.

This classic folly has been repeated by the ignorant generations of the wretched planet for hundreds of years, probably longer if the notion is applied in a retrospective metaphor. Get a good job, never talk back to your boss no matter how fucking TERRIBLE they treat you, and then retire and die, like a good lil’ human. In the meantime, the family that humans neglect can actually feed them and make them feel more fulfilled and rewarded than any job. Neglecting the loved ones in your family via the avenue of your work”for their own good” is the most lazy, ignorant, and  uninspired method of building a life. Many buy this lie, though! Many, many people buy this lie still every day, and will even say they enjoy it! Talk about fucking disgusting.

Work isn’t the enemy here. It’s the money, and the humanity attached to it. The ones who drive, not motivate, drive others to do anything in a company are typically owners and managers, people who were decided to be inherently better than us at doing something. Those in power wish to stay in power, and often they use the minds of the pathetic and ignorant (which is 99% of the human population) generate idioms and vague ideals that can be placed on a bumper sticker to plainly and simply appeal to those who are simple minded and quick to trust. There is no CEO or business owner alive that wants to give up power. Even if they retire, they still hold that power because they are the type of person that needs it, needs it more than even the most suppressed, beaten down member of our society. The rich and the cruel are the successful; rising up on the bodies of the dead to reach their level of desired success.

Rich and cruel people both operate under the facilitation of fearful elitism- that’s why evil and opulence often go hand in hand. The rich will use cruel people, or crueler people to help keep them in power. In exchange, the peon selected to rise up against his or her peers gets to sit at the side of evil rather than guide it, clearing their tiny, underdeveloped, infantile conscious of wrongdoing. Meanwhile, the rich get to bask in their creations, their own section of paradise ripped from the hands of those that were born on it, or simply deserved it. The rich get to destroy OUR planet while keeping their lives, their own little planet, safe.

So with that being said. You wanna do your part? Kill the rich and eat the cruel. Once that’s all said and done, they’re be nothing left but murderers! And by the world’s standard today, as a nation of murderers, we’re poised to start a whole new country, aren’t we?

Land of the free, home of the enslaved. Think it’s just in America? Then you haven’t been listening.

The Lie of Mental Healthcare

Mental illness has gone from fiction to trendy since it was first observed. It is always undermined, seen without gravity, and the injuries it leaves are not tangible, therefore the suffering is lesser. Humanity decides that mental health is something that only a few people are allowed to possess. They are allowed to possess it because of many reasons, like privilege, luck, genes. Some individuals can generate their own happiness, their own self-love simply by being alive. These people are lauded and celebrated, often until the point they kill themselves.

We are all sick. Every human is a tangled knot of disgusting, vile urges and regrets that we try to control through civilization. This mental illness is the greatest, for we all subscribe to it and at the same time, deny its impact or existence.

People cannot help the mentally ill. There is no hope for them. There is no help for them. Truly, because mental illness doesn’t exist yet. Not even amongst mental health professionals and other doctors alike, mental illness is a pathetic label used to market it to us as another keyboard warrior cause, to distract from those really suffering, to subdue and discard the unwanted pieces of society. When in fact, by this method, we should all be discarded.

Speaking with others to help mental illness is not always the best avenue, either. There are many times when people are just too obtuse, ignorant, or just plan thick to understand and actually help someone with mental illness. Rather, it is easier to support them from afar and then medicate and imprison once the mental illness has finally become bad enough to warrant recognition. As always, when this occurs, it is too late to help that person.

Those suffering with mental illness should not take heart. Should not find hope. There is no hope, the only hope is death if the ability to cope or heal is destroyed because the only help those sane enough to receive comes from within, something no-one is told about until it is too late. Until they are too damaged, too medicated, too hopeless to continue. The mind will be there until death finally stops tagging that soul along and reminds them that it was always there, guiding them. The trouble with the entire process is that no-one can help the mentally ill because no-one takes it seriously. No-one takes it seriously until it has impact on them, and that is the key.

Bullying is a popular trend now, many humans like to ride the concept of “being against bullying” to appear chic, compassionate, and moral. These humans are part of the problem, exacerbating the collective mental illness of civilization because of the cause. The “bullying cause”, like any other awareness campaign, has motives, failures, and misconceptions. The mental illness generated by the public school systems is inflicted; pushing children into tiny compartments to shame, drill, and destroy them until they are the proper shade of miserable to be a functioning adult. Bullying directly causes mental illness, but its label belies a lack of severity. In fact, bullying is verbal abuse at its core/beginning- the motives as to why probably steeped in just as much mental illness as it inflicts, but the “bullies” and the “victims” gain sympathy, but not help. They gain an awareness ribbon, but not help. They get recognition on Facebook, but no help. They get encouraging phrases, idioms, and quotes, but no help. Not help.

Sympathy not help. Sometimes not even sympathy, empathy at best, apathy at worse. The apathy of modern civilization should be called mental illness. The violence, the revulsion, the cruelty, the greed of civilization and industry is seen as positive. The apathy, and then the understanding and automatic forgiveness of an individual for doing something despicable “for the best of the business.” The progress of humanity and the deletion of our morality marks civilization- a concept that is sick inherently. The mark of civilization should not be in how big it is, but how mild it is. How supportive it is. How it treats others. By this indication, civilization is a brutal lie that is killing people right this secon.

Labels are applied to mental illness so that someone can come up with some kind of haphazard treatment plan in order to even remotely help the afflicted- depression, panic disorder, ADD, bi-polarism, schizophrenia, all cute little nicknames that highlight, almost in a comedic light, the underlying problem of disinterest and lack of understanding. Most would think that is where civilization’s focus should be, considering that all individuals are afflicted with mental illness as a direct result of it doesn’t matter. Considering that all people live and die, feel happy and feel sad, the focus of civilization and humanity in general would be to help understand these finer points to make an entire society healthier, mentally and physically.

Instead, humans are driven and brainwashed by everything around them (which includes self brainwashing, auto-hypnosis, media, family, friends, society, work, school) that instead, does not matter if the true goal of civilization was to be civilized. It is not- look at how the globe treats its mentally ill. Its elderly. Its animals. The brain, the human mind, is seen as an object, and if the timing is right, or a product. Tapping into the flow of dark greed and innocent blood that is consumerism, anything can be made into a product. A commodity. Something to sell. When money is involved, all parties involved should have their motives inspected with extreme prejudice and questioned at all time. If an individual is willing to spend thirty years of their life working for an individual they may very possibly never meet again and then smile and say “thank you” after they have been laid off without a warning is insane. Talk about mental illness.

With that said, how much can an individual be trusted? A person willing to work at a job they hate for the majority of their life; sometimes they never even meet the person they are doing the job for, and then smile and say “thank you” when they are fired and handed their last paycheck is just as insane as an individual caught within denial. Caught within psychosis. It is a sick, and tragic civilization that can kill a person and have them still work a shift, and then tell them their mental pain isn’t real. Tell them that their physical pain is inconsequential to their job, a job that in reality has no real importance other than what they have been told that is important. Worst of all, humanity wants this even though it denies it at the same time.

Help for the mentally ill is a cruel statement because it doesn’t exist. Help. Anything. Unless there is monetary, or morality prize at the end of it. It won’t be until civilization leaves behind its definition of sanity that those suffering will see aid, and that this disgusting, cyclopean, colossal idea of what modern society calls progress and prosperity is dead and rotting just above all the bodies it helped bury.

Waiting Waiting Waiting Waiting Fucking Wating

Waiting for death is the only thing that seems like it makes any sense in a planet that is filled with nothing but ignorance and suffering. Sit and wait in an office chair, on the couch, in your car, when you are fucking, eating, or drinking. It’s always waiting, waiting, money, and death- all connected by hidden bloody sinews of human misery and misplaced trust.

Elevating the “enlightened ones” over ourselves, we foreshadow any hope, and shred confidence or spine- men and women that are not the betters but the exact opposite, they absorb the power from this planet while it rots, all the while being supported by the self anointed “regular folk,” those who carry out their duties but hope for change, but are too afraid to die for it, like me.

You’re all just as fucking stupid as you look. Clutch your little rectangle with the glowing screen. It’ll tell you who to vote for, who to hate, who to love, who to masturbate to, who to follow, who to disown. It will tell you what you need to think, what you need to do, how you need to live, what you need to be happy, what you need to eat, drink, respect, worship, trust, and betray.

Listen to the loudest voices, the ones with the most money, the best, most hopeful lies, and then react with surprise at betrayal. The common denominator is you. YOU are the moron. YOU are the victim. Hate celebrities, bankers, politicians, cops. Hate teachers, businesses, corporations, money. You’re still stupid, and those things still hold power. You’re still just…waiting for someone else to do something that fixes this planet, fixes YOUR little world. Our little world. MY. Little world.

We are waiting to die. Life here on this planet has become consumed with money and work- it is the core of all human endeavors on this planet. The concept of worth is in direct proportion to a specific metaphorical fraction that exists in a tangible sense. Death and money. Will death make money? If the answer is no, then more death is required. Did we make money from all this death? If the answer is no, well apologies all around! Sorry for the genocide.

Look at yourself. Do you hate you as much as I hate myself? Is the reason to consume pity, or is the reason because you’re slowly discovering what life as a human means; self-created, self-understood, but unaccepted in 2015-

Suffering.

Grandpa’s Pistol

An unloaded gun placed upon your forehead by your own hand grants a slice of perspective that you can take all the way to hell with you.

Potential is what’s scary. The concept of just turning it off. There is an exciting side to it, it must be said. Humans think they know everything, but one thing they can at least feign ignorance on is death. Sure, humans know that the body rots. It breaks down. Identification of the necrophages that feast upon the remains, a name? Gender, age- they can be added, calculated, surmised, addendumed and chronicled. It’s the moment between the final heartbeat and the last breath, where the body is still alive but struggling against the damage done. That moment will ever be hidden to us.

Smell the rot of a body on the road. It’s easy- humans kill things without even trying they’re so godamn useless. Roadkill in summer, a special nostalgia it carries with it. The stink is what can be remembered, but not because it is foul. It’s the confrontation of death, the confrontation of mortality n’ rot. That’s what’s special. In the beginning, it is easy to be repulsed by such odors. The odor of decay is never pleasant regardless of what is breaking down.

Pleasant, however. It can be enjoyed in a non-traditional sense. It is a reminder of death, the only consequence that humanity can understand. It is also penance- pay for your guilt by witnessing suffering and death and you too can be cleansed in the righteous pain that you yourself have inflicted. This is something good, but there is another side that is utterly hopeless through ignorance.

Why suffer? It’s a question that must be asked sooner or later. We all have reasons why we choose to avoid, or embrace suffering and self-torment. Is it just routine? A role that can be learned over time and patience? I don’t care.

Suffering is universal. From the lowliest cell to the mightiest creature, suffering is there from birth ’till death, metaphorical and tangible. Delay is inevitable. It is all mortality can ever hope for when reaching for immortality. Rot is inevitable. So is suffering. Suffering carries with it a beauty that is never seen simply because it is hidden below the misery that blinds humans to the world around them, to the world within.

Gun oil, time, dry rot, leather, wisdom, old spice, soap, an unending smile. Nostalgia creeps in even when the gun is placed against your head.

How do you picture your death? Is it beautiful? Peaceful? Is it a wish, your death? Are you the type that wishes to go without pain? I have seen death plenty of times to know that most die in agony, illness, or misery. Will you still smile when it is the final moment between your body living to your body dying? Smell the rot and see if you can still grin.

Tide of Violence

Humanity is founded on the base need to hate and kill. All civilizations were built on bones and blood, their histroy hailed and celebrated and taught as something just and righteous. History is not written by the victor, it is simply written. There are versions of history all over the planet that change on bias, intelligence, and tradition. Human history is pointless simply because there is nothing to be celebrated outside of the overshadowed compassion and hope that our species sometimes personifies.

Violence is in human nature. We have “advanced” intellects and brains, along with strong and able bodies, and when we disagree, we turn toward violence. There is nothing more natural and hideous. It is everywhere. Consider yourself peaceful? You are not. Violence teems just behind your eyes, locked away within the primordial memories of the subconscious. It is all you ever want, and it is all humans can aspire to.

Urges are natural, correct? Even though humans are usually suppressed when it comes to sexuality, we are exposed to violence- even told that some forms of it are good, or lawful, or even righteous. Violence and fucking are the same act with different outcomes. The hate in our brains is distracted by hopefully love at the most, and pleasure at the least. Humans eat, drink, fuck and sleep not for sustenance, but for entertainment. We are merely looking for distractions, distractions to keep us safe from our primal sides. Our only side.

Civilization and manners are tricks. Parlor tricks, akin to what you’d teach a dog. Humans are just animals that can learn really complex tricks. What’s driving a car? Shooting a gun? Following orders? Cooking a meal? Assembling a nuclear power plant? Designing a rocket? Diagnosing an illness and treating it accordingly? Advanced. Human. Tricks. Nothing more. Strip that all away and there is nothing but the beast, the being that we are all afraid to be. And its this suppression that makes cooperation, civilization and global teamwork impossible.

Hiding behind words, laws, terms, phrases, beliefs, facts, fictions- we aspire to be an elevated Human, a person of great skill, success, and popularity whether in general, or in their own sphere of existence. Truth is we are humans, a species of animal, no greater in importance than any other creature by default on this planet. Humans are everywhere because we are feral, uncontrolled. We breed without plan or morality, we neglect our children in hopes of making more, maybe getting it “right.”

Suppression will always lead to outburst. When we bury our dark desires opposed to examining, understanding, and learning from them, we are doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over, acting in the folly that this time! This time…will be different. It won’t be. The reason for this is simple- humans are unhappy because we are animals covered with clothes and bombarded with social constraints and ideals. Imagine putting your dog in a suit and then screaming at him when he doesn’t meet the sales goal for June. If you wouldn’t do that to a dog, why a human?

When did we decide we need all the technology and extra population to survive? When did we decide that murder must be suppressed, except when it isn’t? Like in movies, art, video games, and crime? What changes? Nothing.

We are a suppressed species, denied our own urges and thoughts for so long that we are evolving toward apathy. Suppression, and the choice to be civil, are not the same.

 

 

People Watching- Ever Notice This?

Look at people as they walk around in whatever little prison they have chosen to exist in today and ask yourself if you notice anything they all have in common.

People watching is one of my favorite activities. I like to study humans because I am one, and it helps me to better define my world around me if I am able to classify and judge my fellow humans beings. Depressed, sometimes I just sit in one place and silently observe humans and the world they squat on. And I’ve noticed something disturbing.

No-one is smiling.

Now, interaction with another or witnessing something funny doesn’t count. Also, these people weren’t exhibiting neutral faces, either. They just looked miserable. I watch humans move from one place to another and accomplish nothing even though they are completing something. Gnarled with apathy, frustration, anger, grief, sadness. Human language just gets in the way- our real expressions and meanings are better monitored by watching the face, and listening for vocalizations.

Volume and appearance are two things humans understand very well, and language does nothing but mottle and confuse our own natural reactions, degrading thought and instinct into “choice”. It’s all downhill after that. A facial expression says more than most words can, and for the complexities of life that need language to survive, to function? Outdated. We’re doing the same shit over and over because well? We’ve always DONE DID IT THAT WAY! What a great fuckin’ reason to keep doing something, right!?

Humans aren’t happy creatures. We’re not built that way. We are not made to bring in the sunshine and save the planet. We are here, like any other creature, to assert dominance through violence (metaphorical or tangible) and remain the king. Problem with humans is that when a king gets old, there’s no younger, smarter, stronger person to force the masses and the idiots that lead them toward extinction. Instead, we have so many kings and queens all over this planet, we’ve all become subjects and slaves, including the repulsive noble class (rulers, politicians, bankers, billionares, CEOs, tycoons, etc) that we labor for and continuously hate and love depending on whim.

Humans have been practicing metaphorical pseudo-intellectual auto-cannibalism for YEARS! Accomplishments are measured with blood and success in the human world. I mean, why do you think everyone looks so pissed and miserable? As you shuffle to your next hole to hide in, consider this. You are the only one in control of your life and death. Even if murdered, the control you have is to relinquish life, or fight for it- either way you are still worshiping death.

Death. Stare at a humans face and study the features. See where the skin is stretched across the skull? See where the eyes sink into the sockets? That skull, a symbol of death, is always there. When you look at another human being, you are watching them die before your eyes, you are watching their skull come forward and their mortality sink back into it, deep in the shadow of the brow until lost in darkness.

And instead of spending time with people we care about, we are too busy working at a job we hate/tolerate (your a godamn liar if you say you love your job 100% of the time) to obtain money for things we don’t need and have invented for others to want, and then finally need. Humans feed into this loop like we belong there.

That being said, here’s something else. Misery loves company. Positivity is infectious. Humanity’s default state is negativity because of how we forced ourselves into compartments honeycombed through understanding. Positivity is a choice. Negativity is the default. Humans are forgetting this, and they are becoming more and more fixated on tasks, rewards, and death. We value all the wrong things, you know.

I mean, why do you think no-one is smiling?

Feeding the World with one Word…

…cannibalism.

Meat is a problem. Humans eat too much of it, and I’m not talking about health, economics. I’m focused on the impact it has on the planet. Food, water, space. Animal waste, hormones, gene therapy, antibiotics. All of this stemmed from one thing: demand. Bigger animals, more animals. More space, more resources to grow more animals for consumption. All the while, our resources dwindle. Instead of simply breeding more chickens, cows, pigs, etc humans could simply eat one another.

First things first. No more breeding factory farm animals- we liquidate our meat supply globally and start exporting our dead to one another at bulk rates according to meat quality. Of course, there are many other things that we rip off of animal bodies, but I say to you: leather, bone, teeth, milk, meat, hair can all be obtained from humans. And at a cheaper price. As far as human diet and health goes, who cares? Humans will eat anything, even if it is blatantly bad for them. We consume shit tons of red meat, fatty organ delicacies, processed meats, meat snacks, for Christ’s sake. We eat this shit (quite literally) but we turn our nose up at eating our own dead? Fucking ridiculous.

Screw the whole IT IS FORBIDDEN thing. Why? Who said? Why are you opposed to it? Probably because it’s been drilled into your head for decades that it is wrong. Disgusting. Violating. But what of the other animals? Are we not killing them and eating them too? Isn’t it accepted that meat is delicious? Of course it is. It’s just marketing.

You mean to tell me there isn’t some sleazy fuck out there in the ad business that couldn’t sell human fuckin’ meat products to the average human? Hell, he (of course it’ll be a male) could probably start in America- we’ll buy anything for any amount. In reality, how long do you think it would take if someone created a propaganda and ad campaign promoting cannibalism? Imagine if celebrities endorsed the act? The answer is not long.

All it takes is one nation. Others will follow because that’s what humans do. And if they don’t, so what? It doesn’t matter.

We’d assign grades and prices according to how the human corpse was attained, and its condition pre-consumption. Senior citizens, for example, would receive a low grade, and be more affordable. Stringy, possibly diseased meat, poor taste. Good for stew, probably. Death from natural causes. And I am certain that if cannibalism was accepted, we would eat human meat at ANY. AGE. A baby dying at birth? A delicacy that you know some fuckin’ asshole would pay for . A teenager who had a freak heart attack? Excellent stir fry meat. A twenty something, cut down in his/her prime by a hit and run? Thick, juicy steaks. A 40 year old that died on the plastic surgery table? Ground meat for burgers. We could also use the fat from morbidly obese corpses to render down as lard for cooking, like in a deep fryer. Fresh corpses could be donated exclusively to feed the hungry.

Human corpses could be pulled from natural disasters, botched surgeries, freak accidents. Those that are murdered, executed, or die of natural causes. Imagine how much meat we’d have if we purged the world’s violent criminals from prisons and executed them for consumption? Suicides, plane crashes, car accidents. People fuckin’ die all the time because there are people EVERYWHERE. Fuck, all the waste products could be used to make SlimJims, hotdogs, salami, pepperoni, sausage. We could revolutionize the way we think about meat, animal/human rights, agriculture. We’d be a whole new species, a whole new planet. More space, more trees. No factory farms, less animal waste, less pollution. All within our grasp.

The only problem I can see here is the cultural taboo. You see, humans can walk into a foodstore to visit the rotisserie, where no doubt dozens of chickens are being roasted all at once. They can look at this wall of spinning corpses and say, “Wow, that’s a lot of food! Looks delicious..,” Even though they are looking at literally dozens of bodies, each once possessed a life, personality, and dignity. But if we saw a wall of spinning human thighs or torsos, it is horrifying. Shocking. What’s the difference? None.

Humans are weak. Period. We follow what the TV says, and all I’m saying is that this world is one extreme idea away from complete and total change- good or bad. Think about it.

 

Death- the Only True Human Religion

Trapped in this wretched hole as each click of the clock shreds reason and vitality. I am sick of this place. Every moment, every accomplishment is tainted by the darkness of this world. Blood-colored glasses opposed to rose, glass shattered not full. Watching in silence, each human moving slowly through their pathetic lives, just like me. Even the rich ones. The celebrated ones, the humans who we elevate for no reason other than masturbatory aid and spite, they are just as pathetic and pointless.

Money, whether one has it or not, does not dictate the quality of ones life. The quality comes from within and without, a collective forced upon us all by the other stinking, greasy apes we share this shithole with. Ever smell humans in a crowd? Their sweat, their breath, pushing against your lips and face, the sick primitive heat pulsing below an oily sheet of weeping sores and nerves. Itchy, irritating, like a burn from human waste.

There are no humans worthy of saving. No humans worthy of anything but misery and death, the only things we fully understand and worship. Truly, death- misery can be quelled, but all of our actions stem from the terror of death. More than just instinctual, modern humans hide from it, sheltering themselves under substance, surgery and medicine- atavism, fashion, entertainment, breeding, eating, it’s all in worship to death.

It’s the only true human religion. Death. It’s something that we all understand collectively. We don’t know what happens leading up to death or what happens after, but humans constantly prepare themselves for that moment, the split second before the grave when life and death hold together before drifting apart once more. Rot. Decay.

Have you ever took in the odor of a rotting carcass on the side of the road? Bloated in the summer, black welts pushing through the pristine fur you’d still like to touch. Their guts, blood, misery- all frozen in their last moment, their dignity displayed. I envy and laugh at the dead. The reverence they receive, the reverence they don’t. Respect for life to worship death isn’t even a thought. We kill, metaphorically kill, betray, destroy. Look at what we’ve created in the name of medicine, or life. Now look what we’ve created in the name of death.

Guns, swords, bombs, poison, explosives. The filthy human can destroy the planet a thousand times over but we still hack humans open in the name of health to heal them. And heal them we do, sure. But consider the sophistication of modern weaponry when compared to medicine. We can kill anything, but we still lack cures for diseases that have been around for too long. We cannot heal anything.Humans prolong death in subconscious reverence.

Humans are death. It’s all we have. It’s all we know. Our food comes from disguised genocide, our medicine keeps you ill with false hope and health, the extension of life is merely a prayer sent to death. Please, please don’t let me die. Who are you asking? If faith is in your toolbox, how fares it against mortality? It is not faith, religion, government. None are to blame. A sentient species is only as good as its kindest, most generous members and humans cling to the skin of life far after their time has come.

Look at what humans admire and idolize. Who are cast aside, stepped on, and elevated- where is justice and hope when staring in the face of ruthless finance? This whole world is diseased- all humans worship is death, and business. They are one in the same. Every job is a killing job. The ones we love, the ones we hate. They exist not to provide for us, but to stimulate greed and to push us toward a singular ideal- work hard, save dough, get rich, live dreams. You can’t live a dream! You can only relinquish to time and hope your inadvertent and subconscious obsession and reverence of death allows you enough ignorance to enjoy the only part of death that makes sense- life.

Humans looking or asking for/about the meaning of life has missed the answer all along. Some may weave complicated metaphorical tapestries (like myself) that end up as bullshit in the face of time and reality- others choose to seek meaning in personal accomplishment, volunteerism. Other still? they seek accomplishment through murder, rape, and torture. The greater good is always good when you are a part of it, and humans have a way of ensuring that they survive so they can pass on the story of their brush with death, as well as exposing the death of others in an effort to be grateful for life. But no-one is grateful for life.

We waste it at work, in substances, in sloth. The smiles behind everyone- from the homeless wretch to the highest billionaire; our smiles and false gratitude are ways to conceal the true nature of humanity from our fellow humans, burying the instinct deep within a concept called “society”, or behaving in a “civilized” manner. Civilization is a fucking joke. We still have gladiatorial pits. Only when athletes die, it’s a mistake, accident, or tragedy; but in the same breath there are humans happy from this misery, enjoying the death of another.

The shrill words of the fundamentalist, so certain that his god is there, and wants you to die, the “wisdom” of the atheist so certain that his god doesn’t exist, the intelligence of a scientist, so certain of his work that all other concepts, facts, ideas- all illogical and useless, to be cut away from the precious time (HA!) we have. These cocksuckers are lying to themselves, and so are you.

You are a disciple of death. There is no escaping it, and the only true meaning of life is to die. There is no greater honor or disgrace than the grave. Hell. We even purchase life insurance policies to give our loved ones money after we die. Humans are wrong, awlays wrong, and we are so certain of our certainty that we are literally killing one another.

And I ask you. Do you still question the human devotion to its one god? The only religion ever to stick with any bipedal, pathetic, ignorant greaseape is death. So until the moment you achieve death, fill the void with things you enjoy. There is no being right, or wrong. No truth, no lies. You must sculpt your own life before you can even desire death.

So stop wasting time and embrace life through the concept of its end.

Inspiration through Editing

Creation of story requires an active mind and a steady stream of thought, akin to a dam with a tiny hole at the bottom.

It is difficult to simply pull more content out of your ass. When I force myself to add words to my work, the work? It blows. I catch myself being lazy, using too many short sentences, stupid grammar errors, blah blah blah. The process is enough for me to hide from the piece I am working on, be it poem, novel, short story, name it. At present I am working on a new 99 Cent Novella featuring my two favorite characters, Thas and Gruun. At the present, I am adding more content into the story to beef it up. No, not to pad it for length- actual, real writing.

I’ve been dry.

But that’s okay! And I’ll tellya why. See, I thought writer’s block worked one way and one way only. Your ass sits at the computer/typewriter/notebook and you piss, moan, and pout when the story don’t come out. So, that’s the method I’ve been using forever. Only until recently did I discover a way to still work on your piece and fight back against writer’s block.

Years would pass in between spurts of writing or art for me. Years! I just accepted it as part of the creative process, my creative process, but this is bullshit. I don’t have to accept anything I don’t want to, and by sheer luck alone, I’ve found a loophole. When I used to write, I would complete a piece without even thinking about proofreading/editing until I was complete. Then, I would print it all out on hard copy, proofread, and then edit. Fuck THAT.

As of late instead, I found myself driven to read the pieces I have already completed. Before long, I noticed the unconscious tweaking of the content here and there. At first I spurnned myself, saying that it’s just a minor adjustment and I should wait until I am finished with the piece. That may have worked at one time, but no longer. Eventually, I just said fuck it, and started to edit and proofread all my work before I had finished it, and I stopped printing out my manuscripts (a task I do not miss).

During the editing session, I found myself generating new ideas about where the story would go, and what was needed to move it forward. I also learned where the language was weak, along with countless other weak points. This is helping me shape the story into something I can be proud of. Little did I know that for me, editing generates fresh content in my brain. Why?

My best guess is that maybe editing turns over my ideas inside my head and refreshes them. As I gain more confidence in the finished product, I can write the piece and finish it more quickly, and perhaps produce a result better than my previous method could create.

Hey, your writing process is your own. Everyone had habits and routines, but all I’m trying to say now is don’t get blinded by them. Every once and awhile, try something different, or better yet completely new. You’ll be surprised with how much thinking your brain is capable of.