Procrastination

To always have people waiting for you does not make you look important. Oh my God I am such a fucking smart-ass.

Even Better than the Real Thing

At this point it has appeared in most dreams I have had. It feels safe and sickening – as if being suspended in midair. It was just like in the movies. Revelation, revelation, don’t you strangers all wish for a revelation? I know I do.

It perpetually seizes so much the attention of my seemingly warped mind. I have researched thoroughly and no, there is nothing it can hide from me.

I wish I could conspicuously exclaim it out, like IN YOUR FACE.

On second thought, let the questions remain. It wasn’t meant to be understood anyway.

“Like the dream you know one day will come to life. Try to hold on just a little longer, stronger.” – Faith No More, The Real Thing
“It really, really, really could happen.” – Blur, The Universal

Some Stranger Demanded a New Post

It’s not like I’m some kind of writing machine, lad.

Oops, pardon my sarcasm. I thought no one reads this piece of shit blog.

What’s today’s theme?

Death? Entertainment? Deathtertainment? Dead people martyred on TV?

I still don’t get how people turn death into something profitable. That’s what you get if you die and the world is watching. Your relatives then turn your funeral into some kind of show. Isn’t that just sick? Aren’t funerals supposed to be sacred? Am I exaggerating? Imagine a worldwide live broadcast of strangers and freaks spend their worthy savings to see you get united with earth.

All the more reasons not to watch TV. Without any disrespect to the late King, I didn’t watch the funeral – for this very reason.

Fuck the media. (How ironic. Someday I’ll be working alongside the media. Ambivalence? Yes, get used to it.)

“If you die when there’s no one watching, then your ratings drop and you’re forgotten. If they kill you on their TV, you’re a martyr and a lamb of god.” – Marilyn Manson, Lamb of God

Think about it and go back to sleep, strangers.

Yes, it’s all part of the idealism.

Turn Ego into Something Beautiful

Okay, strangers. I have recently found out that these writings could actually generate feedback; meaning some strangers (who cared) actually read this armory of words of mine – quite unexpectedly. But then they would ask me “Why?” – and I would say “Just because.”

No, strangers. It has no purpose. It’s pure ego.
Why bother, then, if it has no purpose?
Well – why not?

When you’re half asleep, you start to write about things that only make sense if you’re half asleep. Then when you’ve completely woken up you’d realize, “What the fuck?”

Why are people doing what they’re doing? Why are strangers so strange? And I shiver by even the slightest sight of a writing of it. Distractions and contradictions.



People have been suspecting, but let them ask questions. Let strangers be strange. Let the people whom I gravitate towards be even stranger. I have discovered that physical contacts can be mentally damaging. Then I found myself waking up muttering to the very thing I muttered just before I fell asleep.

It’s a cycle, it’s not like I can predict it.

You would never think this could cause so much rapture, would you?

Then again, ego is only a matter of perspective. I will be disarmed when every word unfolds. The end is nigh they say, now go back to sleep.

Election Day

No, I didn’t vote for either of them. After all, to be neutral is a choice, right? Skeptical as always.

Why?

Well – none of them was satisfactory to me, and if whoever’s elected is going to be a mistake, I don’t want to be one of the people who voted for that mistake. I don’t want to be a part of it.

I hate politics.