Attention.

The object in your rear view mirror? the one that appears to be approaching at roughly double the speed of light? With the chrome and floodlights? Yeah, that's Me, I'm legal now. Bitches.

Slavic Kidney Explosion

Ugh, my head hurts. One Hellish night and some change has wreaked its havoc upon my body and mind. I need to get back into form, it used to be that I could last for days with no sleep and without slowing down. I'm getting stale.
I need sleep, desperately. I don't know how I'm going to cope with tomorrow, I'll just have to wait and see. Ugh, keyed up on Caffeine, my body decides to do strange, terrible things. My insides are still burning and my legs have tingled for hours now.
I'm 16 and already I'm looking back at the good ol' days. How jaded.
Sleep.

I don't understand the question

"When are you going to start taking life seriously?"

...Excuse me? I'm having difficulty choosing one of the many, many ways in which I could respond to your rudeness.

1. By what standard do you measure my seriousness?
2. What makes you certain that life is meant to be taken seriously?
3. Presumably you take your own advice, how has seriousness turned out for you? Hm?
4. When are you going to get your own life and stop getting vicarious thrills from mine?
5. What do you mean when? is there a time limit?
6. When are you?
7. What gives you the authority to judge my attitude towards my own life?
8. Mind your own damn business. Bitch.

Any of these work, and there's really no end to the possibilities. So pick one, and while you're at it, Shove it up your ass.

The Point

When you get really good at something, when you become the best, it loses all meaning. Say I were to become a great baseball pitcher. I pitch a perfect game every night, strike after strike, no exceptions. What is there, then, left to do? Nothing. Perfection is meant to be an unreachable goal, but what happens when you manage it?
There are people who live for no other purpose than to be the best. In recent years this trend has applied to education, Japanese and American parents pushing their children to be #1 in absolutely everything.
Another scenario, this one not so hypothetical: I am ranked #1 in the country grade-wise, president of the National Honor Society, leader of Academic decathlon, UIL participant, etc. ad nauseum. Say I have done all of these things, in preparation for some planned out future in which my complete superiority will be an asset. Then what? What do I have?
There are people like this, who live there lives with purely extrinsic motivation. They live to be the best, to prove that they are #1. They fill their days with studying, working, frantically memorizing. They glory in their own successes and the failures of their rivals. They have no friends, only temporary allies.
I ask you, What kind of life is that? Can they be truly happy? We will never know. They believe that they are happy, and who am I to disagree? But how can these people, these anomalies who have lived their lives in the pursuit, not of personal betterment, but of undisputed superiority, how can they know what happiness is? To be indoctrinated in this way is to ensure the lifelong success of your child, but also to forever deny them the knowledge of true, personal happiness.
Not once will they accomplish a feat or task merely because it makes them happy to do so, but only to receive the reward of dominance in the end.
I am eternally thankful that I am not the best. I feel that I have cheated the system. I know, deep within myself that I could be one of these people, that I was born for it, to be utterly superior to all my peers, but I am not. I am not one of these people, I am a human being. Imperfect, flawed, and all the same better for it. The horror of being so driven by extrinsic goals that I reached the final mountain peak of intellectual completion rocks my mind even as I struggle to comprehend what it would even mean. To be done with improving. It's unnatural.
The Point, I suppose, is that no matter how I, we, strive to be the best, to improve unto perfection, it isn't what we want. We want the struggle, the hunt for improvement. We cease to be Human when lose our need to be better. We lose that competitive spark that allowed us to beat out the other pathetic proto-humans and become Man.
Perfection, more than anything else in the realm of feasible expression, is death.

Broken

So much for trying not to be cynical, I hope you will excuse yesterday's fatalistic rant, I was not myself.

It's easy to forget about the beauty and wonder in the world sometimes. There really is a lot of love in the world; Mothers and daughters, Fathers and sons, Lovers, Friends, etc. ad infinitum.

Love is like magic, it's a force, created by life itself, flowing out and binding us all together. All of us have known its touch at some point, even the most un-lovable creature has witnessed affection in its time.

Sometimes the amount of love in your life will surprise you, just take a look around, I bet you'll see that you have more love around you than you know what to do with.

It comes from the most unexpected places; it could be an old, lost friend, or that guy who you always hang out with but who never really says much. It could be a stranger who you smile at in the hallway, or a role-model who sees them-self in you.

Anyway, I just wanted to say that, in my own, broken sort of way, I love you. Both as a collective and as individuals. I love who you are as well as what you represent. So I hope that you'll forgive my occasional rant, I mean well, even if I'm slightly damaged.

You know what sucks?

Everything.

Your life is there for the express purpose of being shit on by the Karmic Gods.
My life too for that matter.

Not one iota of happiness can exist without fucktons of misery falling in its wake. For every smiling child there are a dozen grieving mothers, standing over the stiff, cold corpses of their sons. There is so much sadness and hatred in the world it's tangible. You can feel it when you enter a room, the air is saturated with greed and bloodlust and petty hatred.

The whole world, from your kitchen table and those who sit at it, to the entire planet, and even the bits of space we've touched is tainted by the corrupting miasma of hate that is our miserable species.

I have lost all faith in humanity, There is no essential collective good. We are just sad little sacks of flesh, greedily hoarding our meager possessions, trying to starve out all the rest of the bastards in the same position.

When we aren't pulling shit onto our own heads, its being dumped onto us by the lousy, fetid cretins perched above us upon piles of human refuse.

There is no escape from the hatred, the loathing, the all-consuming plague.

May we all burn in hell.

I crave Chinese...

... I think I'll eat some.

Igby

I want what you've got, and you've got what I need. You want what I have, but you don't need it. They wish they had what we have but we don't want what they have or need what they have to give. I took it all and lost it. You found it and kept it for yourself. They never had it. You need what I'm selling, but I'm out of stock and I need what you have to make more. They like what you like but don't want it from me. We're all needy but know that the other "We all" will have what we need.

Call me Ishmael!

Have you ever wanted to write something meaningful and found that you have nothing to say? Apparently You're boring then.

If I want to be Him, but He doesn't want t be Him, can we trade? Of course not. Especially since He is also Me, but not Me.

I suppose I could be writing in a more sensible fashion but No one reads this anymore...

I want to fly. Maybe if I get really, very, truly smashed, inebriated to the point where I can no longer think, I can get outside of my own skull.

I need to be sedated.

Help.