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Cold
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It is cold this evening, a vicious and bitter cold that has nothing to do with the weather. It emanates from deep inside the people passing on the street, sinking deep into my bones. Even here inside, I feel the chill, keeping my coat tight around me, as though a bit of hide and fibers can hold back the bite of human indifference.
I hate them, they are repulsive, these sacks of dung, I might feel pity for them if I were not one of them. Arrogance is my primary trait, virtue and flaw, all at once, and I combine it with a twisted sense of humility. A paradox, contradiction in terms, oxymoron, mostly moron.
I am cognizant of the fact that my significance in the universe is nil, an absolute zero. Sometime in the distant future there might exist a device that could calculate the overall impact a single person has on the greater whole, but I can not imagine a more worthless endeavor.
And yet despite this knowledge, my narcissism continues unabated, I am thoroughly convinced my plight is a hill of beans worthy of counting. Though I have no special insight, I feel quite confident that I am not alone in this. With this in mind, I marvel at the massive indifference we present to each other. Are we all so sure that our little pile of legumes is that much taller, some sort of edible tower of babel, stretched out into the fabric of reality, therefore taking precedence?
It is suggested that perhaps our very reality is shaped by our perceptions, which would in fact catapult our hill of crap into a position of utmost importance, but the trouble with this stems from the fact that then we need only change our eyes, perhaps gouging them out, to change plight into flight. If so, why do so many choose to wallow in in shit, suffering and bleeding, when it is a simple matter of thinking differently?
Either way, I fail to understand the world I live in, the scurrying of ants and the shitting of apes. We are all mad, criminally deranged. Fierce demons, sin incarnate, a blight in the sight of god.
So let us dismiss god, what does that leave us? Excrement, feces flung about, primates are the new deities, and pardon me while I pick the lice from your hair and eat it. Oh but we are evolved, a higher being, and in the case of the pot smoker, hail the new saint, but really the sociopaths, and even a step above, the psychopath are the true gods, evolved past the ridiculous neo-primatical rules that bind us. Abberation is a survival trait. Manson was a doomed prophet, washing us in the blood of the stupid, the Unabomber was a saint, and I am full of shit.
Catch!
-m
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