Sunday, July 28, 2013

Call It What You Will...

Pointless...
Unless I can find a time machine, and the ageless ability to chase down each interesting thread to its conclusion, then I'm not interested. Myself, I'm not even remotely stirred by the notion of otherworldly pleasures, nor the need to rut around like pigs on the poke, so to speak.
Clones, then?
I wish, but it'd be better to just say and do the things as they are meant to mean. Ha, and be meant...
Life sucks, and WTF am I doing here? Please tell me that there is nothing after this worthless shithole life, or that it's all ice cream and orgasms, or whatever the kids these days are calling it. I highly doubt it. We are probably resoulcycled over and over, usually as a bug that gets stepped, on or baby varmint that gets immediately gulped down by a predator, interspersed with painfully long spans of a shitty life led by some dood trying to just fucking live. Wah wahhhhhhh, sad.
I don't know what to do sometimes. Tired of wishing things, now I just want to be able to do them. The means...
I'm ok though, I guess. Early sparks of motivation?
I am a tidal wave that will hopefully roll over the streets and wash away the trash and shitty buildings all ghettoey...
Ew.
Muthafucka gotst ta go!!!

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