Ah, Cynicism

I don’t know what happened.  I got off track again.  And once again, I fall prey to the sickness within.  Sometimes, I dont’ believe it even is a sickness, but a violently, brutally truthful perception.  I know I’m not special, only another walking bag of flesh like every other miserable wretch that walks the earth.  The only difference between me and the majority is that I see the futility of it all.  I’m able to see that I truly have no purpose and all the bullshit life throws at me is simply that – complete bullshit.  There is no greater reason.  It’s not a test I have to pass.  It’s only the unfortunate circumstances I’m forced to endure because of what I was born into and the choices I made thereafter.  But when you see life for what it really is, the only choices you can make are either ot end the tragedy or pursue whatever makes you happy.  Yet, also, with this perception it is nearly impossible to be happy, so you pursue distractions.  Unfrotunately, the most effective distractions cost money and responsibilitie prevent constant distraction.  Fortune is where’s it’s at.  In this world, that’s all that really makes life worth living and that is the ugly truth of it all.

You can argue that experience and love and whatever other noble ideals that come to mind make life worht living, but that’s just a survival mechanism routed in the sub-concious to prevent mass suicide.  There cannot be rich without poor.  Someone has to work at McDonald’s.

I’ve seen people.  I’ve observed other lives.  I’ve seen a hideously obese woman with 4 kids in a grocery store, buying food with food stamps gossiping with an equally obese friend.  I think to myself, that this woman has to be physically uncomfortable, she must be in pain, be it from the overload of wait on her feet and legs or the exertion it takes just to walk around.  I also notice the rambunctiousness of the 4 children, various ages between about 4 and 10, and I know this woman cannot possibly possess the energy to keep the constantly entertained so she probably relies on television to occupy them or just lets them run wild as they are doing at the moment.  She obviously isn’t well off financially considering the foodstamps she pays with and her speech marks her as uneducated.  Her conversation with her friend is about another woman who apparently doesn’t raise her children correctly, and the venom in her words is shocking considering the topic.  It’s as if she enjoys speaking derisively of someone else, perhaps in an effort to bring some light to her own life.  These two….they are a prime breeding ground for self-deceit.  God will make it all worthwhile in the end.  All the suffering this woman experiences now will be relieved because she is a good mother, deriving pride from "making it through" all the hardships life has given them.  But this woman doesn’t see that it doesn’t matter, except to the other deluded individuals she surrounds herself with.  A generation after their death, no one is left to care and memories die with those that have them.

So who am I?  No one better, that’s for sure.  I may have education, I may be in better physical shape,  and I may have been smart enough to keep my legs closed in my teenage years, but my financial situation is not much better and there’s nothing special that places me above this woman.  I may not be the majority, but my life matters only to those that care.  But those people die as well, and with them, any memories I may have survived in.

Maybe the drunkards and the drug-addicts have it right; destroy yourself with whatever makes you feel good while you’re here.  There should be a clinic to go to like there is for abortion, where you go in when you can’t stand it anymore and get put to sleep.  Lethal injection.  It’s only fair.  When will society ever come to realize this?  Probably never because the majority is afraid of death.  I’m not.  I’m only afraid of pain, be it physical or mental.