Suddenly I started picturing myself in their place. Twenty years from now, a man going on fifty, with seemingly nothing to live for, droopy, bloodshot eyes blankly staring over a plate of 3 dollar spaghetti. Talking to the guy across the table about the good old days. Fuck. Seen so many of those already it's not even a stereotype anymore. Just a prime example of life fucking with people for so long they forget that they should be the ones doing the fucking. Become the monster so the monster will not break you and all that. I gotta be careful how I perceive these kinds of things though. As you think, so you shall become etc. Don't wanna see myself turning into one of those people that get fucked on a regular basis. I guess there's no avoiding it though. Maybe it just comes down to giving back as much as you take. You know. To even the odds. Balance the scale. Steady as she goes. Keep things running in as straight a line as possible. Being Buddha. Zen. One with all. Either that or fuck all'yall.
Sometimes it just feels like an endless chaotic fucking drift. No true north on these skies. Eyjafjallajökull finally got to the point of no return and fucked up the sky for everybody. Just ash from here on out baby. Though art ash, and to ash thou shalt return. Or the ash to you in this case. To speed up the process and make sure the land is organically fertilized for the next time around. A proper crop rotation system. Maybe those autoerotic asphyxiation guys should have waited a bit longer. They could have done it with some fucking style. It would still be jerking off though.
I don't ever want to stop dealing with this shit. To stop searching. Whatever that means to me. I try not to have a desire to grow roots on this fucking place. The day I stop moving is the day I die. I hope only for a literal demise.. One that takes the body, before it takes the spirit. Until then.. Long live the revolution.
