I'm so done with this I'm done with that and most of all I'm done with no maturity, this is no standard call its no moment to bash or lay the blame its just a statement. The shattered soul crying out from an instant coffee cup who realized strength is fleeting and courage is temporal rather than a stance that is possible to hold on sunny days instead of rainy days. Its sunny and the world might seem atmospherically right but raging inside of the head of a passerby is stress and anxiousness over a myriad of troubles plaguing the human experience. Screw that. This human curse is impossible to get through, Vonnegut spoke right when he said life was no way to treat an animal. Its like a symbolic literal statement that cannot be misinterpreted and if it was it would be right and wrong at the same time. This makes sense this doesn't make sense its my head firing off whatever the fuck my head fires off in order to think, its my hands doing whatever the fuck hands do so the keys can click over and over except in the times my inner monologue does not match what the hands have done to the keys in that case the subjective experience is abandoned and I hit backspace and then revert to hitting keys. A pause is another jolt back to objectivity as the internal voice runs dry. People are always concerned, most people want this, they want people to feel the suffering and pain inside them, teenage girls dream of it. I say it can go to hell. I don't want to help so I ask for it. I don't want help, and I ask for it. I don't want help and I ask for it. What the hell is wrong with me? What is my problem my condition my personal state that makes the brain v body v possible soul seem like this would be a great idea. This is the year of the end of self reflection, it is the year of sangria out of a box in a pink plastic faux wine cup J left at the apartment, its the year of pretending to be able to rap Mad Conductor when I really can't rap Mad Conductor, its putting up with peoples inability to cope with rifts and tension. Tension is a word thrown around words are words and metaphysics is about to put one up on you. I just broke the internal monologue because a sentence was removed. Funny how that works. The worst part is my life is not hard, its easy. This is anything but a complaint from difficulty, its a complaint from ease. Put the pressure on me so I break, punch me so I can understand what life's weight on others really feels like because so far, I have no clue. This isn't terminal boredom either. It is what it is what it is what it is. I talked once about a priori machinations of the universe without knowing what that meant. It sounded really cool. It is because of this I know I am not intelligent. I'm done with having a history with people, why did they have to come here and remind me of past faults, now I have to deal them instead of the other way around. Being put out of a position and strength, taken down from a high hill to the plains below is not tactically wise, but it is where I find myself, Sun Tzu you counseled otherwise.
The funniest thing is tomorrow if shit goes down or the sun decides to supernova or a meteor crashes onto us or we suffer a sudden heart attack this will be taken one of two ways, prophetic or horribly absurd. Its the issue we face everyday, most are too afraid to recognize it. I won't recognize it though it passed my mind, acknowledging all the potential absurdity between life and death is no way to live and its horribly overrated.
A cup sits on my desk, it says “Mighty Fine, Burgers, Fries, Shakes 'There's good, and then there's MIGHTY FINE.'” It is because of this I know I am human.