...So I Can Piss On The Ashes

And I mean that in the best possible way, believe it or not.

Or do I?

Is there absolutely no way to get through to anyone anymore?
Can I wake up and feel like there is some hope in the world without having to force myself to take an apathetic view of most things going on just to safely make it passed the gun section at Fal-Mart?
Should I feel bad that I'm making it all about me if I already feel bad about not being able to do more for others?

Everyday is the same.
More government bullshit.
Politicians engrossed with their own greedy ambitions.
Another military conflict.
Another terrorist bombing.
More fear and propaganda.
More ideologues fighting over which political system they want to destroy society with.
Yadda, yadda, yadda...

After all the drinking, fucking, video games, exploitation, hoarding of wealth, masturbation and drugs we realize we don't really remember who we are or what we once thought life was about.
We fucked ourselves limp.
We've drank ourselves under the table.
Ideas have come and gone.
What we once thought was the secret to happiness has simply come to fuel a new leg of self-doubt and self-criticism that will leave us crippled once again at some point.

What The Fuck Am I Getting At?

I don't know, maybe this (or maybe not):
There is no truth to this world aside from 3 things.
Creation.
Destruction.
Everything else in between, which tends to mainly consist of both creation and destruction butting heads.
We are just a manifestation of broken bits of bone falling from their horns.
So here we are, sandwiched between the origin and the ending. After all the processing and preservation, we are the cold cuts.

Salt and rotting flesh.

But who doesn't love them some lunch meat, right?
I do.
Although, right now, all I seem to hear is the knell of the dinner bell.
The mouths of our greedy and truly humanly misguided desires await to welcome us with open jowls, ready for the last meal of the day.
"FEED THE WORLD! NO MOUTH SHOULD GO HUNGRY" is the battle cry of the well-fed, but they never go to war for this idea.
But they sure love war.
Makes good TV.
Nope, just another  cozy concept to cover them and keep their doughy bodies warm on those cold, dark nights as they fall asleep in the bread bin.
Sure sounds appealing.
I'm just over here staring awake at the ceiling.
It's probably a good point to lay this all to rest.

Anyway, time for a sandwich and a few beers.

Hey, at least we have the internet? Right?