Posted: January 10, 2011 in otiose
Tags: , , , ,

The whole academic system has slid into the shit. I thought it was just because I went to “art school” but it’s a national pandemic. An American education is laughable on the global platform, because everyone that’s supposed to be pounding a few informative shards in deep enough to stick is too busy masturbating in their own touchy feely bullshit.

Go ahead and tweet that, you twit.

That’s why I have to deal with peers that are doorknob dumb but run the world like they’re “multi-tasking” geniuses, because they were in Honors English and took a few standardized tests. Something’s been published, and everyone has his head up her ass and vice versa.

I’m going insane!

It’s marginally comforting that I’m not actually crazy, because you’re putting up with it, too. You’ve been fucked longer. While I’m the bigger fuck up as far as this elaborate system of stupidity is concerned, you’re fucked harder. You’re pretty much stuck unless you actually snap and get your ass fired.

I can’t figure out which is worse, so I don’t know which game to play. I don’t want to fucking play, so I keep fucking up, but when people all the way down at the bottom are telling me I’m not good enough…Fine. Fuck it. I don’t want to be “good enough” for whatever the fuck is going on.

I just want something to make sense. Nothing has made any sense for a long time, and I refuse to take all the blame. It is not all my fault that I hate just about everyone and everything. It is not all on me. I’ve been hearing it for years. I’m the problem. I’m getting in my own way. Me, me, me. I need to change for this that and another thing.

Well, fuck that. Apparently, the self-destruct option appeals to me more. I won’t lie though. It’s extremely depressing to wake up everyday and watch the scum of the world thrive. Does that mean I need rainbows and sunshine crammed up my ass all the goddamned time?

Maybe it will go easier when the little birds are out of my way, and I just go back to drinking the sharper moments into a dull submission. It’s the only thing I’ve found thus far that helps at all…but I’m told those are the sentiments of an alcoholic.


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