Hitchin’ a Ride

Someone came up with the idea a long time ago. The way things were supposed to be. The powers that be crucified him, and anyone who challenged their ideals. They say don’t believe in false idols, but what else is there to believe in, in a world without hope?

Layne Ambrose is an idea much bigger than myself. So massive it lives within another realm. A world that doesn’t forgive or five much hope. A world similar to this one where the hopes and prayers of the weak fall on deaf ears. Money runs this world, but what if it didn’t? What if instead of being based on lies the world was really based on truth? What if the world was merely ran by assholes?

We kneel before the one that rules over this world. We used to call it praying for those of you who are old enough to remember such things. Gave it up for the idea of power, the idea of freedom. A broken dream to believe in such lies. Rise to the ones that hold us down. A nihilistic cause has always seemed a waste of time. A go nowhere idea, but honestly where are we now? A time not so long ago the sun was the true god. Now it powers cars, homes, computers, and so much more. Have we lost touch with something we have forgotten? Something we gave up long ago.

The world is changing every day yet somehow it is getting worse. The problems don’t ever go away. Maybe the only real problem is inside each and every one of us? Has nothing to do with the things around us. So in conclusion go fuck yourself.

Too soon for a thought like that. What I mean to say is insert a large rod like item straight into your ass, repeat vigorously. If you thought that hurt you haven’t been on this planet very long. The pain will subside in time, but really it won’t. Over time you will only grow to ignore the pain. Then it will become normal, expected, and a lot less invasive when the world holds you down and takes what they believe to be theirs. Thank me later.

Letter To Myself

When you look back over a life time you realize just how much time you’ve wasted. You see how minutes are not hours, hours not as days or weeks or life times. You see however that years become seconds and decades minutes. Time slips right by without even a second look. The twenty-five year old me would say I live without regrets and the fifty year old me would tell you how much I live with only regrets. He’d tell you all about how much time I wished I could get back. Time is wasted on the young and stupid. Not that we truly get any smarter with age. I mean I am sitting here writing to any empty audience and wasting the very time I wish to get back. Age is a trip. God damn is it ever. If I could go back in time I’d tell the twenty-five year old me to quit working and go have some fun.

I’d tell him money is worthless and all the shit wasted on it is just that shit. I’d tell him so many things I already tell myself every day.  I’d say live for today and not the week. If only I could go back and warn him of the old man he would become. That’s what I would do if I could go back in time. I’d be selfish for the first time in my life. Never look back, because all you will find is regrets for all the time wasted. A lifetime of waiting for something better is really nothing more than a waste of life.

There’s never going to be a better time than now. When you’re young, when you still have life not at the end of it. Not when there’s nothing left because that is all that is left after a life time of saving and waiting, a whole lot of nothing. You could say that I’m bitter, but I’m just being honest. If you can take one thing from this I hope it is the message to live, to have fun, to have a life worth looking back on. Because in the end this is all that matters, having something to look back on. If only I had listened to myself.

Oh and she cheats on you with your best friend, and the kids all hate you because they think it’s your fault the family fell apart. It took a life time to learn that so use the information well. Good luck and maybe when it’s all said and done. I won’t be seeing you in the end.

If I Go Down, We All Go Down

“I sacrifice myself every day. No one seems to notice or care that I am doing this because I have to do this. Cutting a little piece of myself little by little every day. Years of my life not lived yet slowly being given away. I’ve been told you can lose up to seven years off your life if you don’t sleep eight hours a day. What if you only sleep four hours, do some shit for hour after hour, sleep four more hours, and then do some more meaningless shit? How much of my life am I losing then? We all sacrifice ourselves in some way. So my sacrifice seems as meaning less as everyone else’s. All of us have to do whatever it is that we have to do for whatever reason we have to do it.

Even when we know that it is for nothing. I don’t have to do what it is that I have to do. I could go back to school and do something with my life. We all could. The world needs more lawyers, doctors, and assholes with degrees that can tell everyone else what to do. It is a fallacy to believe that we don’t need a society of people to tell everyone what to do. Could you imagine a store with only managers working there? It would be a magical place where everything gets done and no one bitches that they have more than somebody else to do. Best of all no one would have to answer to anyone above them. We could call it socialism and we all know how that would work out.

Someone from another store would say something about how our store was different from their store. At first they would pretend that it was okay and then once they saw that it was working out for us they would want to join. So we’d let them, willingly let them infect our store with their old ideas, and then we could watch it all burn down from the sidelines. No one likes new idea and no one on the planet likes ideas that are considered fair. They however love ideas that look great on paper. The paper full of ideas that if we were all robots and did this, this, and this at this speed and this amount of time. Then yes we could all be done at this mathematically chosen time. It is a science the human body. We can in some way turn into to machines for eight hours and then be done with whatever it is that we are supposed to be done with.

It was proven during the battery of test performed by the Nazis during World War Two. They found that if you write it on paper and show it to the worker then yes it can be done. As we all know that this can’t happen, didn’t happen, and won’t happen. So we move to the next logical step in this evolutionary exchange of ideas, robots. Literal robots, no more flesh and bone, but harden plastic and wires. Only one major flaw in this plan. What do we do with all the people who use to work the jobs that the robots will take? An army of robot workers was an amazing fantasy fifty, maybe a hundred years ago, but there are too many of us now. There are too many people on this planet to replace any of them with robots. No one’s really going to stop fucking to only be replaced by a robot in the end, but sadly this idea looks fucking fantastic on paper.

We fucking love paper and we hate you. You are unreliable with your feelings and concerns. Not to mention we need cheap and cheaper. That is why what took four people twenty years ago only takes one now. We call it progression, but let’s be serious why pay four when we can force one to do it for less. Don’t believe? Well there’s the door? Good luck feeding your wife and child while you look for a new job you welfarerian piece of shit.  You disability sucking leech. Never mind that we pushed you until you broken. Never mind the fact that we jokingly held it over your head that you won’t find a better job and that you need these hours, so go ahead and drag that heavy ass pallet with the broken pallet jacks that we provide. What can I tell you? Things cost money. The paper says spend no money. No one wants to see anyone do better or get along. No one except Christians and even then it is only because it says so on paper. Face it if everyone was equal who would beg for your spare change?

Everything has its place in our society. Somewhere there is a paper with all of our rules that we need to follow and like anything else written on paper we only follow the parts that we want to follow at that time. Love the fuck out of some structure, but follow it? Go fuck yourself. So in conclusion suck a dirty dick you replaceable waste of a human life. By the way we all matter. People matter.” Smiles for everyone, but most of all for the cameras.

Over Here Please

I’m constantly bombarded with these notions and ideas that I should be doing this or I could be doing that. It is as though everyone has an idea of what I should be doing except for me. The shitty part is that it is never what I am already doing. It is always something that takes a commitment that I just don’t have right now. This is what I want to do. Whatever the fuck this is, is what I want to do.

I may not be the best at it but surely I am not the worst. Of course that’s not what anyone wants to hear. I don’t make shit doing this, but is that the only reason to do something? Some days it feels like the only reason I can’t lie about that even to myself. Though I know that it is not true. Life is a struggle this career is a slow march through hell.

It takes a toll on you. Hacking one piece of you away at a time until all that is left is a bloody stump that won’t shut the fuck up. I’m nothing more than a tortured soul tortured by my own thoughts and views. A constant pain that no matter how much I say I’ll keep having more to say. Even if no one is going to listen. But that is the point is it not? To find someone to listen to what I have to say. A never-ending struggle without no real sense of a goal. Here’s to another long night saying the same old useless shit to myself.

Wait For It, It Pans Out, Kind Of

We spend so much time lately searching for something that has always been there. We spend our time pretending we don’t see it at all. Yet bitch and moan that only if this or only if that we could have a sense of purpose. Existence is nothing more than the idea to keep going. Bombs satisfy these needs only in defense. As an offense strike missiles provide nothing more than what they advertise. Destruction, destruction of a person, destruction of an identity lost only because they do not share the same view.

We preach that we are righteous, that we are holy, and that we are above all principled. Are we really when we do so much wrong? If we really cared. If we really wanted to make a difference and to prove we are what we say. We would spend money to educate, rebuild, and promote the acceptance of differences rather than bomb the living shit out of them.

We keep taking the easy way out and it never pans out. Not once has our way been the better way there’s just no one left to tell us so. Our ways will run out and we will fall. Not because our way was completely wrong, but because it is broken. Our society is better in so many ways, but there are way too many faults to outweigh the good. Our broken education system works wonders to promote an agenda we swear up and down that we are not following. Keep us deaf, dumb, and stupid. As long as we keep buying everything will be alright.

What happens when there is nothing left to own?

What happens when we have everything we will ever need as we have had for the past twenty years?

What happens to us then?

We fall apart as we are now. Our education is outdated by thirty years and counting thanks to all of our innovations.  Each year we fall behind because we can not keep up with the technology. The education gap is spreading further and further apart yet we keep hammering the old ways over and over again. We focus all of our efforts to teaching things that can easily be taught at home, and yet because we need so much shit there is no one at home to teach them.

No one at home who isn’t too tired to take a vested interest in what the fuck is going on. We are working so hard to realize this dream that we so deeply believe in yet no one can remember what it is we actually dream about. No one actually remembers why it is that we live. Why it is that we have come here in the first place. Fuck everything that moves of course and spread the sickness that is life.

Underground Parking Structure For All Eternity

I think of all the things that I have to say and all the things that I want to say. Two very different and conflicting ideas. The question is am I happy? Simple at first more complex as time goes on. Define the word happy or the feeling of happiness. No one is happy for longer than a few seconds. The feeling fades, cum and you are done, the feeling disappears into the brink of darkness. Overwhelmed by all the living done around me. I don’t remember a happy time from my childhood, but I can recall in detail every single horrible thing that I was put through.

I remember these things like most people remember fond memories of loved ones. It is that only these tortures memories were, are my only friends. Why must I always be submerged in darkness even in light? I wonder if it is just me. This is who I am. Depression is often described as though a dark cloud is always hanging overhead. Always ready to rain. The feelings never ends. Forty more years of this seems like an eternity yet the last thirty went to fast to be doing nothing at all. Choosing a path is so much harder without a trail.  So much harder in the rain from a storm that blinds my eyes. Built to be stronger than the way I portray in my life. Though maybe I am weak after all. Too weak to see the good that I still have left in me. Seems to lie with in the same region as happiness. It comes and goes, but really I’d love to be the one to destroy it all.

Burn it all down and absorb the screams. Enjoy the end much more than the beginning. Would be hard at first to go against nature. The day-to-day things might come back to haunt me. Faded memories, but I’d forget their faces after a time. I know by the time that it was all said and done I could get over the shock and aww. We paint the devil as a villain while giving him all the traits of a hero. A liberator of man only to be tinged by the flames he wanted all along. His punishment was his goal in the end. Who really won? We fight every moment to obtain what we are trained to never achieve. We praise Jesus, but worship Satan. Doing the right thing only gets you crucified. Suffer until there is nothing left. What if the bible is real, but we have miscomprehended it since the dawn of time? What then?

If God was among us what would she really have to say? Live your life or do it my way. It’s all the same as time goes on. We make choices for no reason at all and decisions on our own time. Nothing ever lasts, but we’ll wait until the last second to figure that out. Not an issue when there is still so much time left for me to decide.

Bowl Full of Something and It Keeps On Moving

Early, I’m always early. For what I don’t know. It’s not as though anyone is standing around ready to go. Waiting on me to show my ugly face. Always in a hurry to be done with whatever it is that I’m doing. Out of time, I’m always out of time I suppose.

I’ll be early for death and in a hurry to get it over with. Yet I suffer from extreme anxiety that I will die before I am able to accomplish anything. Whatever that might be. An enigma, I am an enigma. Andrew Jackson Jihad has a song called “This is Why I’m Hot.” In it the singer states that he only has two years left with no context to why he only has this much time. Since turning twenty-eight it is as though the song and the lyrics have become my mantra. How long do we chase the ghost? Until we die? I feel as though the longer I go the more the lyrics will depress me.

Who knows though maybe one day I will never feel like this anymore?

Maybe one day I’ll be dead. I fear that death is nothing more than one long therapy session. Constantly thinking, reflecting on a life time full of bull shit and regret. Worthless excuses to why I didn’t do this, but rather did that. I often wonder what it is that I will say if this is how death is. I suppose that is why I write. Get all of this off my chest before the big day. As I stated before always early and always in a hurry.