|the soapbox @ benturner.com|
"Carbon Burn and Putrification of Anything Even Remotely Pragmatic", an Essay
Fuck people, fuck people, fuck people. People make me so fucking sick. Surely there's a purpose to everyone, but as more and more people pass onto this earth, the pool of usefulness is tapped until it's dry like the squalid, repugnant mind of a lawyer.
Everywhere I go, I run into stupidity. It's so damn frustrating. No one knows what the Hell they're doing. People stagger around and eat, sleep, and fuck like rodents, no clue of where they're going or what they plan to do with their little-deserved lives.
To most people, words are just little Black and Decker power tools for getting what their pathetic souls want for that exact moment. They do not find it wrong or even degrading to manipulate words to get their fucking cotton candy or corner office. What do they live for? When are they going to get the fuck past themselves?
One day they will wake up in the sweat and tumescent liquids of their many partners on their bed and loathe themselves so much they can't bear to look at themselves in the mirror. They have taken what could have been so much and turned it into a cesspool of nothing. Black, cold, shallow nothing.
And the worst part is, before that realization of their sub-human existence, they think they're the shit. Yes, they have no doubt in their minds that they are supreme, that they actually fit into any sort of spiritual framework.
Like most photographers, journalists, critics, and even personal web site authors. They huddle by the fire instead of leave the cave. But to them, the fucking fire is the best thing they could possibly have. It's all so fake. And everyone's in the fucking cave, so guess who gets what the people who have left the cave deserve? The people closest to the fire. Half-wits who happened by mere luck to reach the fire are the ones in control while those who are cold and wish to be by the fire make it their lives to be closer to the warmth. The people outside of the cave aren't even acknowledged.
You better fucking believe it's important to be acknowledged, too, for in the actual world, it's the people who left the cave who still have to live around the people who fight for the small fire. Choke on your smoke.
It's all about personal glory, isn't it? Admit it. Millions of hollow shells creak along, the shell gradually caking, cracking, and flaking off, while the spoiled meat inside becomes food for the scavengers.
Stay out of the better world if you know what's good for you. Don't waste my time with your useless banter. Don't send me shit unless you say something you mean and something that's actually interesting. Don't talk to me unless you need something from me or unless you're a close friend. Don't intrude. Don't embarrass yourself, if it were still possible to do so. Don't try to sound intelligent, because you aren't (No, you fuck, if you're hit by a car and you aren't hurt, you still got hit by a car. Fuck you since I don't have a TV and have to watch one of the few shows I see each week with the rest of your brainless ilk.) Don't try so fucking hard to be what you're not. Don't write shit and put it on the Web and copy the style of every other fucking author on the Web and then bask in the glory of awards and hits and other disgustingly superficial things. Leave writing for the people who are good at it. Not everyone is an Andrew Scott, so don't even try. You just aren't as good. Don't have the audacity to claim "shack" is your word. Don't fucking talk about things you have no clue about. Don't discriminate towards a black woman and her family and then attempt to justify it (she was hassled by you, regardless of your reasons for giving her a hard time). Don't make up excuses for your well-deserved losses. Don't ask me stupid generic questions about my life unless you actually care to know what's going on. Say my site sucks or say my site is beautiful, but use that fucking mind you purport to nurture -- explain your views. Don't call me your friend and then never tell me what's going on in your life.
Goddamn, it never ends...the filth of ignorance covers the ground like morning mist -- it squeezes and slooches through my toes, dirtying my undeserving feet.
Are you annoyed with all my swearing? Is it your first time here? Have I alienated you by attacking what you thought was intelligence? Do you think I'm just another teen with a fetish for expletives? You'd be wrong if you did. I can speak in the most grandiloquent and arguably poetic language if the situation is appropriate -- I just felt that for something like this, I'd have to speak in terms you could comprehend.
The people who know I accept them should know already that this essay is not directed towards them. Those who take a genuine interest in the world and how it works, both physically and spiritually, are not the targets of such hostile words. But they could probably take some advice in reading this, all the same. People need to know friends are thinking about them in more than a superficial manner. Sorry, but that whole notion of understanding without words is bullshit. Exert some energy and let your friends know -- don't keep many friends, but keep those few friends extremely close. Don't be a whore.
I will succeed in life, regardless of the omnipotence of stupidity. And I have her, who adds greatly to my plan for victory.
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