(you are who the fuck you are, new year or not)
The ceremonial dumping of the old calendar box
booklet and replacing it with a new one is a capitalist-hijacked metaphor for
New Me (You) which usually is tied to weight loss gimmicks, gym memberships,
probably a new jacket or some shit like that. But understand nothing is
different, at least not any more than usual when you wake up the sun is on a
different day than when you closed your eyes. There is no New You (Me) just because
it’s a new four digit number at the end of your direct deposited paycheck (if
you’re lucky… thoughts with the economically unstable in these trying times).
But we like to pretend, and we pretend even harder now than ever before because
this is The Era of Falseness. We have fake leaders using misinformation to
fear-monger us, on all sides. Even the progressives are fucking scumfuck
landlords Air BnBing cutesy fucking Airstream trailers to inherited wealth
assholes who think unfiltered water is a blessing. Each one of us at our core
has always been what we are, and the day to day infinitesimal changes compound
that. We can break cycles and inherited traumas, but fuck, that’s hard work,
and most of those who are privileged are lazy of spirit. And many of those with
True Spirit Warrior status are so fucking predator droned at psychic level on
constant basis that life is more about survival than thrival. But at our core
we are who we are, and this Era of Falseness hijacks that into notions of the
work being easy, or giving us false identities where a change in identity means
we are completely entirely different person, without remembering our core is
our core. (And ultimately I’d like to believe the core of being human is the
same for all of us, and that in fact is connected to that primordial muck that
all things come from, and of course after a sentence like that one must say la
ilaha illallah).
Myself, I have come to a point where I contemplate
where all my knives and machetes are. I am just about fucking done to be
honest. My sanity has slipped to a dark place a couple times, and my patience
for these fake motherfuckers is growing thin. The obvious fake motherfuckers
(president, national politicians, billionaire class, techlords) set aside as a
given, I grow tired of the localized fake motherfuckers, who attempt to launder
their own complicity in how entirely fucked everything is utilizing the Lesser
of Two Evil arguments, that they are not as bad as the aforementioned obvious fake
motherfuckers. Guess what? Not being Donald Trump doesn’t make you a good
person. Fuck you.
Anyways, class war hasn’t started yet, and due to
my professional growth which has not been easy, I will likely be suspected of
being a snitch and killed, but it is my hopes that I get to use all my blades
thoroughly before this happens once United States societal collapse happens
inevitably. And I’d be glad to be killed myself in the name of this shit system
crumbling back into the Earth.
This month’s JJ Krupert listing of 13-most heavily
played songs in recent commuter ipod rotation (complemented by heavy headphone
listens hiding from the world’s horrible realities in my terribly cold bed,
wishing to survive this current period of navigation towards some undefined
future happiness) is dedicated to machetes, and kabar knives, and other
assorted implements of sharp destruction, scattered everywhere, buried, hidden,
stashed, tucked away, and waiting. At some point perhaps soon perhaps 37 years
from now a fire will shine a light bright enough that this Era of Falseness
will all of a sudden so obviously appear to be as false as it is, and those who
survive or are able to focus their screen-strained eyes through the digital and
opioid fogs will think, “lolol well fuck, why didn’t I see that already?” But
they always did. You fake motherfuckers can’t ever get woke. (Also you don’t
even read this but I am planting inside these cyber-fields anyways, in my 2018
geocities page of obscure nothing thoughts, and letting it ferment however it
ferments. Meanwhile, I have almost perfected flash drive shanks… probably just
need four or five days of above-40 weather out in the yard to figure it out.
Once that’s done…
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