Today I’m frustrated and I’m going to take it out in writing, all Ze Frank style but with writing instead of a video.
Safety or significance?
Adventure or security?
WHOSE ADVICE TO YOU FUCKING LISTEN TO?
With half the population of My Brain, USA, voting to fuck it all and move to the woods, get back on the road and turn into the drifter I sort of tried to be when I went backpacking (never try to legitimize homelessness. If you’re going to do something, just do it) and the other half of the population casting its vote for well paying 9-5, better than most 24 year olds can do these day, and a life of rational savings accounts, investment plans, and a life on the grid, it’s hard to know whose vote counts for what.
And it makes me feel all fucked up inside.
And now you get to hear about it because I’m too mad to even be rational or realize I need to step away from the computer and breathe, or act on that realization.
Because I want to bitch.
I want to moan.
I want to piss.
I want to feel bad just to feel bad so I can feel important in my poor me life and story.
Because my life rocks.
But my mind can’t be happy with that.
I say my mind because I don’t want it to be ME who isn’t happy, I want it to be something else, some alien parasite that’s taken me over. And I hope that isn’t me.
So there. Let that be a lesson to you, reader.
And then I read this: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/07/09/foot-amputation_n_5571204.html?ncid=fcbklnkushpmg00000026&ir=Comedy
Go fuck yourself, mind. This is my life. I’m going to have fun with it, no matter what I’m doing. So you can just fuck off and die.
Safety or significance?
Adventure or security?
WHOSE ADVICE TO YOU FUCKING LISTEN TO?
With half the population of My Brain, USA, voting to fuck it all and move to the woods, get back on the road and turn into the drifter I sort of tried to be when I went backpacking (never try to legitimize homelessness. If you’re going to do something, just do it) and the other half of the population casting its vote for well paying 9-5, better than most 24 year olds can do these day, and a life of rational savings accounts, investment plans, and a life on the grid, it’s hard to know whose vote counts for what.
And it makes me feel all fucked up inside.
And now you get to hear about it because I’m too mad to even be rational or realize I need to step away from the computer and breathe, or act on that realization.
Because I want to bitch.
I want to moan.
I want to piss.
I want to feel bad just to feel bad so I can feel important in my poor me life and story.
Because my life rocks.
But my mind can’t be happy with that.
I say my mind because I don’t want it to be ME who isn’t happy, I want it to be something else, some alien parasite that’s taken me over. And I hope that isn’t me.
So there. Let that be a lesson to you, reader.
And then I read this: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/07/09/foot-amputation_n_5571204.html?ncid=fcbklnkushpmg00000026&ir=Comedy
Go fuck yourself, mind. This is my life. I’m going to have fun with it, no matter what I’m doing. So you can just fuck off and die.