Why waste time posting bullshit thoughts to a blog in which no one will read, or if even accidentally found, will be ignored? Especially since no one really reads anymore. Its about pics and vids, youtube and short bursts of intellectual Twinkies on twit accounts. Following is encouraged. The less thought the better for this new era. Effort is avoided in every way, we've got cars that park themselves, are you fucking kidding me? but everyone still dies of the same diseases, progress is measured in pathetic ways.
Well I don't know why I'm here alone in my bunker doing this, really. I need some kind of venting, a release. I feel nothing from the reality of this turd planet. I only have feelings during releases of emotion, such as art, writing and orgasms.
I remember younger days of hope and love.
I also remember growing up in the grungy bleakness of the nineties. It was an era of angst and depression. Suicide was in, all the coolest people were doing it. Some odd phases went through that decade, for all. I feel cheated having my "best years" during that time. 1989 was literally the beginning of the end for me. Then, finally, at the end of that foul decade, I felt I found a source of repair and meaning, a reason for all this. That, of course, exploded into a destructive, twisting void. So now, turn another decade and I'm right back where I was. Do these things cycle in tens? It is time for an up cycle.
It is worse now though, its beyond the bleak atmosphere and low self-worth. Now I know more of reality and hopelessness than ever. I realized, lived, and bled. I understand this world more and hate it even more. I have lost all trust, all reason.
Honestly Id rather have just lived and died in the 40s, live until 18 and die on the shores of Normandy, at least a respectable cause, even if I didn't kill a Nazi. This life is purely pointless. I'm aware it is what you make it, but I had no idea how little can really be controlled. How the things that were sure are not anything.
Venting may be organized chaotic thoughts,maybe some mellow mind poetry, interpretations and commentary on the state of the blue ball, or just totally bullshit rants.
So in regard to the question of "why" can be answered with the classic response, why not? I really don't care who reads this, what anyone thinks of me anymore. i know that I am nothing, Ive accepted it. but whether or not this shit is read does not determine its creation. I will always write and vent until my time is up. Now it can just float in space among the deconstructed images and sounds of furry kitten videos and pornography.
