Oh, To Be An Adult

I dreamed of being an adult when I was a kid. Then I would no longer have to put up with the nonsense of being bullied and ignored. I dreamed of being in the world of sense and fair play. Yes, I know. I couldn’t have been wronger.

Dreaming of getting out of the cage

Everyone struggles with the fact that we’re like every other living thing. We aren’t noble. We aren’t wise. We aspire to have more so that we can have more. We consume energy and expel waste, nothing more. I mean, forget Trump and all of the childish horror that he and his cronies spin. The misinformation and anger is everywhere; it’s in my workplace, my family and dreams.

Camus and company offered us a path out: have a cigarette and accept the dire situation. But we can’t. We need our emperor to have clothes, the confetti canons to spout, the scribe to get one more quote. Listen to me! Please listen to me! But we can’t. Our feed is calling.

Fuck You, Content Creator.

What I mean to say is “I appreciate you”. Each and every one of you.

The ruling is a simple one. Stop being a fucking baby. There’s no paradise thing. We made every step, always our own, never for another, pretending maybe, but that’s a child’s game.

Life has to be lived, the same as it’s always been. It doesn’t matter how long or short the game, black-outs and cash-outs included, it’s played to the end. Grow the fuck up and keep posting your dog and cat pics. They’re fucking hilarious.

Social Media is Social Distancing

There is nothing in it, no wisdom, no treasure, even crumbs to extol.
It is directionless, emptiness, there is nothing to gain.
Nobody cares how well you scroll.
It is despair, an absence and death.
Nobody cares how well you scroll.
There is only vanishing, like you were never here.