I am stressed, I am bent out of shape. There are external forces rallied against me. I do not feel self pity, I don’t hold pity parties, I don’t require your charity or your good will. I want to be honest with you, I want to be frank. But I don’t know how, because we settle for the immediacy of stupidity. We’ve become gluttonous pigs, incurably self loving. There’s no room in there, we retreat to our safe places, our inner man caves, our preferred realities.
I’m not judging, but I am. I want to say all the wrong things in order to make things right again. I think the 80’s were better than today. How much fucked upness until we’ve obliterated our own destitute souls?