If I Could Dance I'd Walk Away from You
As my faithful followers can tell from the title, today's entry will not be on the life of the Druce. Instead, it will be all about your humble hero (or perhaps, more accurately, antihero) me.
I've decided that I'm obviously fucked in the head. I don't like being part of clubs that would take me as a member. I just want to be despised, but only because I want to be loved. But not really. I'm just confused, like everyone else. Or perhaps not everyone else. I'm confused like all those damn confused people you see, sitting around confused all the time. It really sucks, but because I don't give a shit about it, it doesn't suck so bad. And there you have my philosophy. I just want to think less, because it's less taxing. The idiot culture is alive and well, and I'm proud to be a part of it.
To assuage those of you who think I'm underutilising my meagre brain, I'd like to say that I have one thing figured out, and that's the fact that all generalisations are false. They're always useful though, as thought saving devices, and I believe some can be made. I make them all the time, and then forget about them. But I don't want to explain my philosophy because it gives me too much of a headache. Just trust me that it's (for the most part) all there. Most of the time, anyway
So the question is, what have I said, in all this thoughtlessly formulated prose? The answer? Nothing. We all say a whole lot of nothing a whole lot of the time, I think. We just think it's important, but what it really is, perhaps, is important to us. Or not. Most of the time, I think, people don't feel what they say is important. I don't, anyway, and I like to apply myself on the faceless masses, because what other frame of reference do I have? Admittedly, these generalisations probably never hold true all the time, but I'm confident enough that I think the way other people do, in relation to some things, to make these generalisations. And I think that's ok. I think that if we all really thought about everything, we'd end up with no conclusions and a lot of headaches. And I really hate headaches. What's the point of those things? They seem to make the people around me feel better, having them. Not directly, of course, but because of the fact that they've thought enough to give themselves them. This, I feel, is fairly silly. [Generalisation alert!] People are silly. Or at least, I am.
I suddenly feel the need to explain myself, though, however briefly, so this is as good as everyone is going to get. Everything else I'll answer with a slight grin and a chirpy 'fuck off'.
Remember, though, calliing you a bitch is just another way of saying I love you.
As my faithful followers can tell from the title, today's entry will not be on the life of the Druce. Instead, it will be all about your humble hero (or perhaps, more accurately, antihero) me.
I've decided that I'm obviously fucked in the head. I don't like being part of clubs that would take me as a member. I just want to be despised, but only because I want to be loved. But not really. I'm just confused, like everyone else. Or perhaps not everyone else. I'm confused like all those damn confused people you see, sitting around confused all the time. It really sucks, but because I don't give a shit about it, it doesn't suck so bad. And there you have my philosophy. I just want to think less, because it's less taxing. The idiot culture is alive and well, and I'm proud to be a part of it.
To assuage those of you who think I'm underutilising my meagre brain, I'd like to say that I have one thing figured out, and that's the fact that all generalisations are false. They're always useful though, as thought saving devices, and I believe some can be made. I make them all the time, and then forget about them. But I don't want to explain my philosophy because it gives me too much of a headache. Just trust me that it's (for the most part) all there. Most of the time, anyway
So the question is, what have I said, in all this thoughtlessly formulated prose? The answer? Nothing. We all say a whole lot of nothing a whole lot of the time, I think. We just think it's important, but what it really is, perhaps, is important to us. Or not. Most of the time, I think, people don't feel what they say is important. I don't, anyway, and I like to apply myself on the faceless masses, because what other frame of reference do I have? Admittedly, these generalisations probably never hold true all the time, but I'm confident enough that I think the way other people do, in relation to some things, to make these generalisations. And I think that's ok. I think that if we all really thought about everything, we'd end up with no conclusions and a lot of headaches. And I really hate headaches. What's the point of those things? They seem to make the people around me feel better, having them. Not directly, of course, but because of the fact that they've thought enough to give themselves them. This, I feel, is fairly silly. [Generalisation alert!] People are silly. Or at least, I am.
I suddenly feel the need to explain myself, though, however briefly, so this is as good as everyone is going to get. Everything else I'll answer with a slight grin and a chirpy 'fuck off'.
Remember, though, calliing you a bitch is just another way of saying I love you.
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