I don’t know how we got ourselves into this mess, most of us doing fifty hours a week of shit we hate, a thousand constitutionally cross eyed history books and to top it off fucking alarm clocks. As far as I can see the only purpose an alarm could possibly serve is warning you before you’re being attacked. That we’ve used the same word for two very different devices upsets me a little. A morning alarm should be called something else; perhaps an existential-crises-reminder or a fuck-you-anator and we should leave the other device to it’s singular purpose- warning military bases of bombs and the paranoid middle class that cats have a function more annoying than licking themselves in front of guests; crossing beams to carry dead things into the lounge. Either which way it boils down to the Carlinesq obsession with stuff, be it our lives or our jewellery.
I feel a strange kind of envious tonight, there’s a decided lack of necessity in the air, which though enjoyable, which inturn is itself a limp pastime- o.k the whole thing remains irritating. What is it about watching countries burn that does this to me? Vice had an incredible post on shit gone upside down all over the world and it saddened me. Not in the empathetic, let’s hold each other, perhaps light a candle and then cry for a bit way, but rather as a kind of existential jealousy.
I can’t remember when last I felt moved enough to kick someone as hard as I could, I mean I definitely remember kicking someone quite recently, but it was more in an educational, uplifting explanatory way, illustrating why people should refrain from being massive cunts. What I’m referring to is serious, urgent exchange, where the shitlist dictates rash decision, above concern for self preservation.
Check out the article, it’s heart warming if you’re the kind of suburban, sheltered non entity that I am.
Either which way a gear shift sounds fitting. I think I might kick someone tomorrow.
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