Apotheosis
Well-known member
So I began writing this on the spur of the moment. I intend to leave my words as candid and unaltered as possible so that you may see my natural manner of thought, in terms of flow, vocabulary, content, voice and so on. It’s interesting… I, uh, I don’t speak, much, but I’m always thinking – processing, analyzing, evaluating information as it is presented to me, no matter how minor it may be I analyze every detail of my life and any number of worldly interactions occurring around me at any given moment. It’s not like I’m some supercomputer, far from it, I’m just a weirdo with social anxiety who happens to have an above-average IQ and dreams of being a world famous director.
I guess I ought to tell you what’s going on right now, then, oughtn’t I? Well, my roommate is ****ing his girlfriend very loudly. That’s part of the reason I picked up my laptop and started writing – I was trying to sleep but couldn’t because there were two heifers squealing like pigs in the same room as I. You try dozing off when ol’ Bessie Bovine is lowing in your face. So here I am, unglamorously pouring what shreds of my heart I can gather into a digital manuscript for [deity] knows what reason. Anyways, as I said, I don’t talk much but I find myself strangely uninhibited when it comes to writing. There’s a much more synchronous rhythm between my fingers and my mind than my mouth and my mind. But still, writing anything no matter how nondescript is a calamitous undertaking. I have never claimed to be the most stable person, but the antics of these two young creatures is pushing me over the edge. I JUST WANT TO BE ALONE. I need to be alone, for the health of my shattered mind I need a reprieve from the inane ponderous trashy love story these two have concocted for their own self-mutilation. Why do they not understand how ****ing awful they are for each other? The guy cheats on her and does nothing but get wasted and play basketball, the girl is a pathetic lump who panders to the guy’s every need. I’ve spoken to her and I see that she has a personality, but that personality is repressed and discarded by the presence of that boy, a destructive misogynist who is desparate to flaunt what little traits of masculinity he has. He’s so proud of his workout regimine. NOT what he has gained from it, but the regimine itself. The dude is weak and flabby but thinks that because he knows how to use a workout bench it makes him the ****ing Hulk Hogan of the douchelickers. WHAT THE **** HAS SOCIETY COME TO?
Where is my place in a world populated near-explicitly by these parasitic people. I don’t want to be like him or her, but to create a truly unique identity is nearly impossible. To escape the bounds of masculine or feminine… what else is there? I am gender neutral then, I suppose, asexual ’til time tells me otherwise. But what does that mean? WHO AM I?
I guess I ought to tell you what’s going on right now, then, oughtn’t I? Well, my roommate is ****ing his girlfriend very loudly. That’s part of the reason I picked up my laptop and started writing – I was trying to sleep but couldn’t because there were two heifers squealing like pigs in the same room as I. You try dozing off when ol’ Bessie Bovine is lowing in your face. So here I am, unglamorously pouring what shreds of my heart I can gather into a digital manuscript for [deity] knows what reason. Anyways, as I said, I don’t talk much but I find myself strangely uninhibited when it comes to writing. There’s a much more synchronous rhythm between my fingers and my mind than my mouth and my mind. But still, writing anything no matter how nondescript is a calamitous undertaking. I have never claimed to be the most stable person, but the antics of these two young creatures is pushing me over the edge. I JUST WANT TO BE ALONE. I need to be alone, for the health of my shattered mind I need a reprieve from the inane ponderous trashy love story these two have concocted for their own self-mutilation. Why do they not understand how ****ing awful they are for each other? The guy cheats on her and does nothing but get wasted and play basketball, the girl is a pathetic lump who panders to the guy’s every need. I’ve spoken to her and I see that she has a personality, but that personality is repressed and discarded by the presence of that boy, a destructive misogynist who is desparate to flaunt what little traits of masculinity he has. He’s so proud of his workout regimine. NOT what he has gained from it, but the regimine itself. The dude is weak and flabby but thinks that because he knows how to use a workout bench it makes him the ****ing Hulk Hogan of the douchelickers. WHAT THE **** HAS SOCIETY COME TO?
Where is my place in a world populated near-explicitly by these parasitic people. I don’t want to be like him or her, but to create a truly unique identity is nearly impossible. To escape the bounds of masculine or feminine… what else is there? I am gender neutral then, I suppose, asexual ’til time tells me otherwise. But what does that mean? WHO AM I?
: LoL