Hello. Good Morning. My name is I don’t give a fuck.
What does it matter? Does any of it matter anyways?
I’m tired. I’m tired of all the battling. What is the point? It is all for nothing anyways. Sound and fury signifying nothing.
How silly we are. All the preoccupations and beliefs that we get caught up in. No different than a bug getting caught in a web. For what? In a hundred years, none of it will mean anything. Oh yeah, you are going to heaven so it must mean something. Sorry. There is no heaven. There is just right here so don’t make yourself mean more than you do by adding life after death. There is none.
So what do we do? I don’t know. The only thing that makes any sense to me is making music. Making music seems like the only sensible thing to do. It is fun and meaningful. Every, every, every, everything else seems like a waste of time unless you can make it into something fun. This is probably why we put such high regard upon musicians. This is why we look to them for guidance. We are trying to find a way out from our suffocating holes.
But I don’t know what is to be done. Maybe you have your health. Maybe you have two legs to stand on. That should be enough. Shut up about everything else you spoiled brat. But if you do not have your health. If you do not have two legs to stand on maybe you should spend your time trying to find meaning in just being present with the experience of being alive, no matter how fractured and splintered your life feels.
We are a complicated species. We create all kinds of complex webs for ourselves. We are obsessed with one another. We are like dogs or cats who can only think all day about dogs and cats. Totally obsessed with the actions and creations and permutations of other human beings. In one form or another we spend our days listening to and watching other human beings. We are a species obsessed with its own image. We look to one another for guidance, distraction, inspiration, vindication, love. What a waste of time this is. Like spending your life always considering our image in a mirror. Humans have cast a spell over one another. Often we call this culture.
None of it makes any sense. We are an absurd species. I even get down on myself because I have not lived up to my own expectation of becoming the kind of human being I want to become. By not being the kind of human that I want to be looked at as being. (A large spider just ran across my desk. I was startled. For a moment, I was not thinking of other human beings. It was a great relief.)
I’m not trying to say anything here. Even though maybe I am trying to say everything. I am spending my valuable time trying to communicate with human beings I will never know. What is the point of that? Gives me some kind of strange solace knowing that I am being heard and understood by someone? Why do I need that so bad? To feel heard and understood- isn’t this what really motivates all human behavior? Are not people who desperately need to be heard and understood some of the most fucked up people the human race has created? They (or we) are the ones who will ultimately destroy the world