There's gold in your television. Unfortunately, you are not a gold miner, you are the gold mine. Face sad fact, friends. You wake up, go to work or school to prepare to go to work, then you leave work with paper which you can exchange at the company store for goods and services.
You can't kill a deer or raise crops. You are utterly dependent on commercial entities to feed you, clothe you, bathe you and help you live through it all. For this, you are worked mercilessly. It's a new level of serfdom. It's state sanctioned slavery.
You can't pack up and go into the woods. You are hooked into the system. Your choices are limited. You can play the game and hope to make enough money to buy out of the wage system, or find a way to subvert the system.
As an agent of the system, I must explain to you that the odds don't favor you at all. Then again, I am part of the system now. I only tell you this to make you feel worse about your existence. I want you to feel empty and alone. I want you scared. I want to taste the salt of your tears.
I'm on top. I'm in cotrol. You are not. I am. That's simple. Even as you read this, notice how you react. You want to call bullshit, but you wonder for a second if I can help. I can, but I won't. For a second you wanted to think you didn't care, but now you want to call bullshit again. You are pathetic.
Yes, you.
You still don't understand why you can't win.
Again, I can help, but I won't.
Okay, maybe a little. If you want out, I can tell you what the door looks like.
Pay attention to your thoughts. Watch where your thoughts go. See what you do to avoid thinking at all. Get a notebook. Write down unedited thoughts. What habbits do you fall back on? What makes you mad? Who do you dislike and why?
Now, swallow the bullet and admit you are lying to yourself. You are killing yourself. It's not our fault, but see it. You are mad at yourself. You are mad that you have to work all the time and that you're not allowed to play all day. Inside, there is a petulant child crying over a broken toy.
Oh. You didn't want that sort of help?
Alright.
You are so awesome and everything is fine. That better? You are so cool and everyone envies you. The world respects you. You are valuable. You are unique, special. Horray for you.
Ahhh. Now that it's about selfish you, do you feel better?
Why are you reading this? Why do you come here?
Isn't there something better you could be doing right now?
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3 comments:
Paying attention to my thoughts would put me in a mental hospital.
Awe poor little Murky Worky is having a bad day and like the bully on the play ground has to belittle everyone to make himself feel better.
Someone didn't get their beauty sleep last night did they?
You poor poor little bastard. tsk tsk tsk. What shall we do with you?
I know! Strap you into the "It's a small world" ride at Disney and send you through it 500 times. Maybe then we will see Mr. Sunshine come out and play. :)
Have a lovely and wonderful day.
Muah!
I have something better to do- I'm going out back in our woods and kill a deer with my bare hands, and then I'm going to eat it. Raw.
And then I'll watch 'Jeopardy!'.
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