beating off and around the bush

Constantly, I feel as though I’m in an argument with myself as to whether this plane of existence, this life, is real. I see regular shit things happen and I see miracles too. What sort of half in and half out horsecockery is this. The comeuppance is spiked back down into reality every time and we’re expected to have hope for the future. What the shit is that? The only thing this world has taught us is that wherever happiness lays, you fucking go up to her and take her because bullshit will befall you. Now, now, I don’t mean that in desparity, but I do mean that in the sense that it really doesn’t matter what you do in life. For so long, I’ve done things with the afterthought that I’d be punished for something. But there are worse assholes out there, you know what I mean? And they seem to have it better. So, be an asshole, and seize thy day!!

Now, i’ve never been one to roll with the crowd. It’s not a trait I can’t control, but it’s just a thing, masses hang out in groups. Most masses follow the main point which is usually dumb. If you repeat a lie often enough, it becomes truth for someone, and those someones are the ones you watch out for. They seem convinced and do so with a debilitating fervor.

It’s funny. I say that a lot. It really is funny, though. Everyone’s a liar, whether they want to be or not.

 

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