Rant #1

Before I begin this blog, I'd like to show you how much I'm against blogs, and there's nothing better than the expert beneath from Californication. Frankly, I almost feel disconcerted and ashamed that I have to use a video from a fucking TV series to express the way I feel. And again, as expressed in this clip, I loathe myself, the fact that I'm lost, and that I'm the biggest fucking hypocrite to grace this planet.




So, that's my attitude towards blogs sorted. Let's move on to me. Yes, me. And here's a slight warning to you: what you are about to read, is absolute banality. Prosaic? Check. Cliche? Check. But what you're about to read, is, unfortunately the way I feel, and is my best attempt to converge all the ideas into my head into one, and somehow splatter it onto this blog. Which, I've noticed, probably no one will read. Self-loathing reason #2. Let the blog begin, and the chips fall where they may.

Life is one big monotonous ball of shit. It rolls and it rolls, but it seems like the road is endless, and wherever you go, it fucking smells. We're confined to the everyday duties that society has imposed on us; it's just the way we've been nurtured. We wake up, we shower, we eat, we go to school. What the fuck changes? Anything slightly interesting that happens is basically just another tedious solo in some shocking 80's power ballad. The things we own? We don't own them. They own us. Even our dreams. Passion? Inspiration? My fucking mind is my inspiration.

We should be creating something, but instead, we're not. We're re-creating and re-learning what's been already done. When you've got an average lifespan of 80 years or whatever the fuck it is...isn't it slightly depressing to spend the rest of your life re-living and re-creating what's been done. Speaking of which, will probably be what all of us will do. I WANT TO GO DOWN IN HISTORY. But I won't. What I will do however, is go down on your mum. Maybe your sister too. (By the way my thoughts come as they are...fuck order.) Fuck being perfect. Why? Because we strive for perfect...something that doesn't exist, and something we don't even know. Well, at least I don't fucking know it. Self-loathing reason #3. Oh fuck the numbers.

One thing that I've come to learn over my mere 17 years (almost) of living in this world, is that when everything is falling...let them fall. Let them fall into place. Then let them converge again. Let them come together and adhere all over again. The tighter you try to hold it, the more energy you waste. Oh and by the way, why the fuck are you even reading this? Isn't this just some regurgitated bullshit coming from yet another troubled teen? The same, monotonous, prosaic, try-hard-non-conformist bullshit that comes out of every kid that thinks they're different...that they exit for a greater good, that school is shit and life is boring. Who the fuck cares? Let there be wannabes, let there be people who feel different about themselves, and don't fucking label them. Fuck conforming? Fuck being a rebel? Fuck you! What do I do? The world and its materials are so hell bent on destroying us that is has pushed my sanity so far that I want to create something different, something new.

We have these ideas...but they seem meaningless...this blog is meaningless...go to sleep! My parents? Conforming, yet seemingly responsible white-collar shits, who stop me from chasing what I want to chase. Let me chase! I don't know much...does it matter? Fuck what you know, fuck what I know...I want to know different. I carry a good sense of morale...that's all they've given me. When you step out of life and become a detached observer, you begin to see that life is like that ten-minute train ride you take every morning. We go, we come back. What do we achieve? Take away the money. I don't want to be a hypocrite. I don't want to want these things. Am I selfish? Yes, I'm complaining about my life when I'm blogging on a fucking widescreen hi-def desktop screen, when there are poor kids out there dying in Gaza. But I give to charity. To make me feel good? Can't a good deed just be a good deed?! Does charity have to be selfish? Fuck you.

I want to go to college, and I hope it can fucking teach me something...not to re-learn, but to make. I'm scared of losing and that means I can't win. So don't play at all? College shall be my armour, for I hath no balls. I want to wear it. I want to know how to splatter my brain onto paper. I want to make, and strive for balance. Do they contradict?

I will abjure and repudiate from abjuring and repudiating from anything that I fucking love. And I will accede to my heart's desire and make. I am going to fucking abrogate the laws of society, the laws of nature, in order to create.

My last cry? Give me a muse. Give me a fucking muse so I can write. Give me a fucking muse so I can create something different. I get a feeling something like that's been said before. Fuck.