Thoughts
on the situation, as it stands, and how it will end...(if it ever ends):
(Note: We don't know says what, but the different colours are our way of trying
to distinguish one from the other)
How the fuck am I supposed
to know? That could very well be considered the statement of my life. I never
know, but I always have an opinion. Oh yes, opinions are free, motives come at a
price. The price is, you have to stick with me forever, and endure the shit I've
lived with since the beginning. And no, I don't know when that was. Like I
said-how the fuck am I supposed to know? How am supposed to know automatically
the rules of this game, the methods of madness and the parameters of the human
race? They control me, and yet I am not to be controlled. The rules don't apply
to me, but my circumstances make it seem like they do. It seems that nothing is
as it seems, don't you agree? No, I don't either. I just like to contradict
myself every now and then, makes for an interesting debate. Always talked to
myself, comes naturally.
I'd like to say I'll be around forever, I really would.
But at the moment, the only thing I can say for sure is that I'm tired. Tired of
what? Well, I don't know, it could be a number of things. Uncertainty has always
been a part of my life, when I needed it and when I didn't need it. Especially
then. I only know that I can change, whether I want to or not doesn't come into
play. Life has an annoying habit of grabbing you by the balls and making you
listen. My eyes have always been wide open, and I've been assured that so has my
mouth (!), but my ears remain closed until further notice. Am I needed, do I
have some big fancy plot laid out for me to follow, some lives to save or ruin?
Or am I merely a prop, to be used and thrown away? An object with no real value
beyond the superficial; people adore me for what I am, who I am, and then they
forget. I never forget, I wish I could but I can't. So many "I"s, am I
really so introverted? Or do I even deserve an answer?
Information is what I crave, why can't everyone
just leave me alone to gather and think? I don't need you, you're nothing to me,
why can't you understand me? Why won't you listen? I want to be alone, not
surrounded by your puny buildings and self-obsessed rituals. I want to retreat,
away from you all, to be by myself. This company is, at least, a small respite;
I can ponder here, review and make judgments without scrutiny by Everyone Else.
Hide me, shelter my weak body and pretend I don't exist. They may not know me,
but I know them. I know that, secretly, they relish my demise.
I can't believe how wonderfully revolting this
place is. It manages to be interesting and boring at the same time, fascinating
and yet stomach-turning. I like it. Why does everyone have to be so choosy about
how they live? Why not accept the situation for what it is, and move on? You all
spend too much time in books.
If we were to take our heads out of the books and
take a proper look around, I expect we would soon dissolve. I mean, what is
there here for us? Really? Besides a place to rest, a place to talk, and a place
to voice our opinions? Nothing, that's what. Fuck having a purpose, I say we
bolt up the windows and play the music really loud. After all, it's a scary
world out there. Who's to say they'll accept us, who's to say they'll let us
merge into society? We can never be too careful, I think, and what better way to
stay safe than to stay put. Oh, I'm not suggesting we all take the next flight
out of here, but at least we're unseen. No one can point and laugh, and know at
whom they are truly pointing. Pointless to worry about what others think, they
don't think properly anyway, most of the time. I question questions and resolve
no conflicts but my own.
This is in itself a pointless effort, are we really
so manipulative? Silence.