I write this to the backdrop of Father John Misty’s Pure comedy, in a rather unhappy mood, unwilling to make any social contact, appalled at the mere thought of the bullshit drivel I had to spend seven hours suffering through today. Only to find a rather empty space.
I don’t feel compelled to start with ‘Humanity this and humanity that’ however it may end up that way in the next couple of hundred words but well we’ll just have to see.
I guess I’ve never really had an open crisis per say. I guess my crisis was years ago, buried deep in the minds of two now. It had rather devestating and painful resultant impacts on my life, echoing even now like the mutating effects of an atom bomb. For these past years amongst the hours spent nestled in front of my computer in various stages of thought, contemplating this and yearning for that. I’ve always stood on the belief humanity is just an evolutionary existence. We aren’t built to be here; hence the failed carehomes, and threat of nuclear war. We evolved from monkey’s and found ourselves here (ah shit I’ve just started on humanity) we like to believe we have a purpose and aren’t just wandering around until one day we drop dead, oh yes that will happen oh forlorn reader, me and you simple disintegrating specs of dust (sorry to burst your bubble) but at the end of the day we just came to be, maybe in fortunately so for the sake of the earth. Hell it’s rather unpleasant but its the truth. No god is saving us, muhammad was just a deluded fuck, sorry to tell you writing his quran to make him feel better about his mistakes. If only it could be all covered up with the pretense of muhammad being a visionary but frankly he wasn’t; he was most likely an insufferable cunt high on his own self-obsessed importance and self-belief.
I mean just look at humanity (continuing on with humanity here) we have in reality only so very few years on earth, they could end at any second be it a nuclear bomb or just getting hit by a decaying yellow cab on sixth street.
Well yes there you go humanity is a sick joke, we aren’t special and we are all going to die. I love someone and I’m still writing and in a rather unhappy mood. Hopefully the mood changes, though hell it’s helped bring about this piece. However it is subjective as to what this piece is
Of course you might be flicking through the old reader and sigh reading it whilst thinking oh look he’s at it again acting like he knows things.
I’m just feeding you bad opinions of myself now; much like the reminder of my transgressions and mistakes. Well that’s the culmination of these countless words, just a post, that will be relegated to the doldrums of the overflooded word press reader. Rather ironic don’t you think, this post disappearing into the many just like the next person who will drop dead, disappearing into the abyss. I’ll wave to them from my little space in there.
Ben Brizell 