One thousand and six fucking posts, that's what I've done, and what the fuck is the point. What the fuck is the point of combing over the back of my asshole mind. My unhappy reflection of the joyous event, the zombies call life. WTF? What the Fuck is WTF, and who the fuck cares, whom am I talking to. Using mediums like facebook.
My teachers and most of my peers,don't have a fucking clue what the fuck i'm talking about. They look at me with these clueless eyes, fucking empty asshole eyes that want something that would satisfy this thing, what is it! WTF are they fucking looking for? They want to see themselves in the deep, swimming in shit. They want to hold up this thing, whatever it is, to the light and examine it, all its prestigious details, all that bullshit. You know what they fuck they're doing when they do that right? They're not looking at the light. Fuck whatever they're holding, I want to look at what's looking at me, technology made it pretty fucking apparent what that is. We want to know ourselves. All there is in you is you. Every teacher and every student, are the same thing. The art of it is to see, and to watch, cause there's a cancer that stops us from realizing that all we have to offer to ourselves is us. No on else can do that, technology gives us much to examine, we can see everything now without realizing the cancer inside our self. It's in every one of us. Don't forget that, and you're an artist.
2 comments:
the search for meaning is frustrating...and made all the more frustrating when you cannot find anyone willing to help you on the journey. Don't lose hope, my friend. In that crowd of dead eyes you can catch a glimpse of another searching soul, and that moment is worth it. Keep the faith, fellow traveler.
Thanks dude! See you around!
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