There is a very small chance in hell of me being silenced anytime soon.
In daily life, I spend an inordinately large amount of time coming up with concepts that make complete sense to me, but either because they require enormous amounts of dubious explanations, or by virtue of the fact that someone simply doesn't think I am coherent, are beyond most people in my existence. Perhaps that is my ego fucking Jesus in his cakehole, you say. Nay, I am simply a creature that has a lot to say.
If you read what I say, such as this exact sentence, then I got what I wanted from you, without your conscious consent, and whether or not you like it, a small part of you has died. These seconds from your life are gone, and I took them from you. You will never recoup the loss. All the hate-filled rhetoric from your trailer house in Nebraska won't cleanse the rot I have incured on your life's wallclock upstairs. You are now older and upset (or if not upset, simply taken aback at the abuse of your time I inflicted). Either way, for a moment of your day, you belonged to me. Multiply that by the times these words will be read, and the coefficient of the variable of how many people will find this, and you will see that conquering the world is as easy as I "HATE GEORGE BUSH!" Google is my own personal nuclear bomb now. Take that, secret service!
Many things are a part of how I view the world. The influences that shape what I think about most and what I truly believe in all have a place in this document. There is a code hidden within the words you are reading. If you are keen enough into my psyche and have the werewithal to decode my grand schematic, then perhaps you will find something you can take with you, to better your own existence, or to better understand why I do not give a rat's fart in hades what you think of me one way or another. In the end, both of us will die, and all this will become a memory of a memory and then..nothing at all. Passing away is the nature of the universe, and far be it from me to claim god hood on a digital document in the middle of cyber-BFE. If you write and upload it, they will come, so to speak. Well, here you are. You might as well keep reading, or go fuck your sister some more. It matters little to me, as this is a one-sided glimpse into what you think I am as a person. Bravo, you just deluded yourself further.
The weather fascinates me. I am appalled at how very little human beings KNOW about such things. Yeah, we predict it, but its never 100% accurate, and even if it is close enough to detect an arousal in the penis of some norwegian fisherman it still boggles the mind. Condenstaion, evaporation, all things that are relative, and fit nicely into cryptic poetry about lovers who found out their parents are siblings. It always comes down to the final product - acid rain, or in your case, lack of sleep and the need to read the rantings of a madman whom you perceive to be in his parents basement, when in reality, he has Joan Rivers on the wrack and is experimenting with the many wonderous effects of play-doh on the open brain pan of some poor drunk fuck from central park who pisses his pants everytime someone says the word "yakuza".
If you read enough of my pondering, ranting, raving and proclaiming, you will see a definitive FUCK YOU being slammed against the faces of a great many people. In trying to be non-conformist to the views and socio-political masochism that surrounds me, I appear to have clones all over the web, although less-so offline. Online, I am a superhero who is unhindered by moral prejudice, misguided deity worship, or the cancer that is PUBLIC OPINION. Here, I am god. Here, there be only one dragon...me.
Sometimes I get down and think to myself that all this self-publishing is for the birds. Well, I always rethink that stance. Somewhere, somehow, someway..someone is reading my stuff, and they are being informed. If you are one of the many teeming mind leeches who cannot form a complete sentence when sending hate mail, keep on surfing to the back button.
You will find no solace here. This is a place of refutation and subterfuge. This is a pitstop on your soul's decline into the pit of forever, defeated. I am a free thinking asshole from the U.S. of A. and all of the naysayers, hanger's on, and the pulpit fondling god fuckers out there with an opinion about why I am a mislead young man can all eat shit and grow some fungal colonies on their dead skin. I am not here for your spoonfed morsels of indignant, idiotic, self-aggrandizing moron's share of the spoils of this life. I am here for my own amusement. Laugh with me, or dissolve, as you scream towards your send button inside your email client, and the scathing commentary is ignored by a wall of hateful, sadistic, mutually assured spam-foldered silence
That being said, be that as it may (i love making grammar whores upset - by virture of the fact that my misuse of grammatical and spelling structures gives them the delusion I'm an idiot who cannot fathom daylight savings time, which means I own their souls in a jar on 5th avenue), I will now commence the commemoration of the commemorative relaunch of the centennial commanders copulation of your anger in his grubby CRIMSON hand with a christmas exclamation: FUCK YOU!
