Hello Pinky my old friend, I've come to talk to you again...
Posted: March 6th, 2009, 5:09 pm
Seriously, I mean, serrrrriiiiioooously! What is your problem?
You're nothing to me!
And then you insist on saying...
Well you know what you said, you probably still have those words, engraved on some sharp darts , to fire from your mouth, and... don't try to be clever, it doesn't suit you, I'm apathetic, deal with it!
How am I supposed to care, when all I have to care about is everything, and yet nothing effects me?
How am I meant to care, when all around me is a sea of nausea inducing comfort?
I grew up in a world where I saw everything, but at the same time, saw nothing.
So excuse me if I'm different.
And sharp darts don't wound me, don't shock me, don't move me, don't even peirce the skin, or thoughts within, I don't understand the stress and strains, and hopes, and pains, and mental anguish, of a broken wish, cast loose upon the carpet of long forgotten arm twists, chinese burns, wheel turns, 90 miles an hour isn't fast, it's standing still.
Do you expect me to understand the horse and cart, or how we start to proto-analyze the causes of the civil war, when all you have in store is some dust covered battered copy of a politically correct, authored book, written on paper?
OMG! Paper?
Man, I'm surprised anyone ever remembers that.
Where are the gifs, and the flash animations, the swf files, and the big block rocking beats, booming out in the background?
Where's the goatse porn, and a million naked girls, doing obscene things, to each other, for ten bucks, that will be forever posted to the furthest corners of the cyber universe, for a million years to come, and seen by a billion generations?
How am I supposed to concentrate?
And when do I level up?
I mean, come on, 9 to 5, McDonalds?
Are you serious?
Do me a favor, I want to mash some brains, and then power up, take on the level boss, and max out my score, flipping burgers is a bore, it's pointless!
So I'm feeding people?
So what?
What's the point?
Some other sucker will do that.
So exactly why am I supposed to care?
Sure, we've never had it so good, but do you know how annoying that is?
All my heros had it bad, I want it bad, I want a challange, to manage my life, beyond the sterile confusion of pollitical correctness.
I can't scream, I can't shout, I can't call this guy that thing, or that guy this thing, I can't chose my friends, or be a man, I can't be rude, I can't smoke, drink, fart, do drugs, I can't look at women, I can't discriminate against men, I can't use the wrong words, I can't walk on the wrong street, I can't tap my feet to a tune that I want to.
Your world is sterile, and I want to be me, because I'm selfish.
You cut yourself, and you grazed your knee, you straightened two fingers, and they turned into a gun, and you chased your friends through woodlands, shouting "Bang bang, you're dead", but I had to sit home on the internet instead, because you were worried about pedophiles, when half my MSN friends were naked, and on cam, man, you were so blind.
You offered me a world, where my best friend should be an Italian, called Mario, who went to sleep in power cuts, and didn't have the first clue, how to help me cheat in math, but you felt it was safer, to wrap me up in cotton wool, and tell me "there, there, everything will be alright!"
And you ask me now, why our streets run red, with rivers of blood, well I'll tell you, because you bred a generation who were nothing, who are lost, who have no purpose, have no role, have no opinion, they are all unhappy little sterile soldiers, who turn into gansters, and prostitutes, the moment you leave for work.
I know you only ever meant to make a better world, but you sucked the life out of it, you sucked diversity out of it, you sucked opinion out of it, and tried to brain wash us, and make us into drones.
Well you succeeded, we're drones, but bad drones, who drone on, and on, and on, and on...
Seriously, I mean, serrrrriiiiioooously! What is your problem?
You're nothing to me!
You're nothing to me!
And then you insist on saying...
Well you know what you said, you probably still have those words, engraved on some sharp darts , to fire from your mouth, and... don't try to be clever, it doesn't suit you, I'm apathetic, deal with it!
How am I supposed to care, when all I have to care about is everything, and yet nothing effects me?
How am I meant to care, when all around me is a sea of nausea inducing comfort?
I grew up in a world where I saw everything, but at the same time, saw nothing.
So excuse me if I'm different.
And sharp darts don't wound me, don't shock me, don't move me, don't even peirce the skin, or thoughts within, I don't understand the stress and strains, and hopes, and pains, and mental anguish, of a broken wish, cast loose upon the carpet of long forgotten arm twists, chinese burns, wheel turns, 90 miles an hour isn't fast, it's standing still.
Do you expect me to understand the horse and cart, or how we start to proto-analyze the causes of the civil war, when all you have in store is some dust covered battered copy of a politically correct, authored book, written on paper?
OMG! Paper?
Man, I'm surprised anyone ever remembers that.
Where are the gifs, and the flash animations, the swf files, and the big block rocking beats, booming out in the background?
Where's the goatse porn, and a million naked girls, doing obscene things, to each other, for ten bucks, that will be forever posted to the furthest corners of the cyber universe, for a million years to come, and seen by a billion generations?
How am I supposed to concentrate?
And when do I level up?
I mean, come on, 9 to 5, McDonalds?
Are you serious?
Do me a favor, I want to mash some brains, and then power up, take on the level boss, and max out my score, flipping burgers is a bore, it's pointless!
So I'm feeding people?
So what?
What's the point?
Some other sucker will do that.
So exactly why am I supposed to care?
Sure, we've never had it so good, but do you know how annoying that is?
All my heros had it bad, I want it bad, I want a challange, to manage my life, beyond the sterile confusion of pollitical correctness.
I can't scream, I can't shout, I can't call this guy that thing, or that guy this thing, I can't chose my friends, or be a man, I can't be rude, I can't smoke, drink, fart, do drugs, I can't look at women, I can't discriminate against men, I can't use the wrong words, I can't walk on the wrong street, I can't tap my feet to a tune that I want to.
Your world is sterile, and I want to be me, because I'm selfish.
You cut yourself, and you grazed your knee, you straightened two fingers, and they turned into a gun, and you chased your friends through woodlands, shouting "Bang bang, you're dead", but I had to sit home on the internet instead, because you were worried about pedophiles, when half my MSN friends were naked, and on cam, man, you were so blind.
You offered me a world, where my best friend should be an Italian, called Mario, who went to sleep in power cuts, and didn't have the first clue, how to help me cheat in math, but you felt it was safer, to wrap me up in cotton wool, and tell me "there, there, everything will be alright!"
And you ask me now, why our streets run red, with rivers of blood, well I'll tell you, because you bred a generation who were nothing, who are lost, who have no purpose, have no role, have no opinion, they are all unhappy little sterile soldiers, who turn into gansters, and prostitutes, the moment you leave for work.
I know you only ever meant to make a better world, but you sucked the life out of it, you sucked diversity out of it, you sucked opinion out of it, and tried to brain wash us, and make us into drones.
Well you succeeded, we're drones, but bad drones, who drone on, and on, and on, and on...
Seriously, I mean, serrrrriiiiioooously! What is your problem?
You're nothing to me!