A Dreary Afternoon of Cynicism

Eat, sleep, and fuck is all we'll amount to;
A never ending numbness,
Just getting by,
Mindless, bitter survival,
Waiting for the end.

Eternity is this perpetual cycle
Of eat, sleep, and fuck;
Passively fucking one another,
Of thoughts of change;
Of hopes of progression;
Dreams of authenticity, connection;

Realization that everything is nothing;
And the emptiness and the lazy simplicity
Of eat, sleep, and fuck
Beats senseless optimism
And contunual disappointment;

And to this...


The Medusa and the Snail

"Everyone says, stay away from ants. They have no lessons for us; they are crazy little instruments, inhuman, incapable of controlling themselves, lacking manners, lacking souls. When they are massed together, all touching, exchanging bits of information held in their jaws like memoranda, they become a single animal. Look out for that. It is a debasement, a loss of individuality, a violation of human nature, an unnatural act.

Sometimes people argue this point of view seriously and with deep thought. Be individuals, solitary and selfish, is the message. Altruism, a jargon word for what used to be called love, is worse than weakness, it is sin, a violation of nature. Be separate. Do not be a social animal. But this is a hard argument to make convincingly when you have to depend on language to make it. You have to print up leaflets or publish books and get them bought and sent around, you have to turn up on television and catch the attention of millions of other human beings all at once, and then you have to say to them, all at once, all collected and paying attention: be solitary; do not depend on each other. You can't do this and keep a straight face.

Maybe altruism is our most primitive attribute, out of reach, beyond our control. Or perhaps it is immediately at hand, waiting to be released, disguised now, in our kind of civilization, as affection or friendship or attachment. I don't see why it should be unreasonable for all human beings to have strands of DNA coiled up in chromosomes, coding out instincts for usefulness and helpfulness. Usefulness may turn out to be the hardest test of fitness for survival, more important than aggression, more effective, in the long run, than grabbiness. If this is the sort of information biological science holds for the future, applying to us as well as to ants, then I am all for science.

One thing I'd like to know most of all: when those ants have made the Hill, and are all there, touching and exchanging, and the whole mass begins to behave like a single huge creature, and thinks, what on earth is that thought? And while you're at it, I'd like to know a second thing: when it happens, does any single ant know about it? Does his hair stand on end?"

(no subject)

well I'm tired of thinking about you
and the hell that you put me through
but the songs eat up some of the pain
take the place of the tears
and ease the heartache
over you my dear

well I'm tired of these love songs
they won't make you mine
i'm tired of singing my heart out every night
well i'm here all alone with not a soul to hear
all these love songs and where the hell are you, my dear

well i'm tired of all of these songs now
never meant to let you down
it just all went wrong somehow
well i'm tired of feeling all this hurt and i'm tired of all these words
but the songs eat up some of the pain
  • Current Music
    Love Songs - Lucero

(no subject)

This isn't who I am.
From confidence to self doubt in 60 seconds.
Storming stages and stereos from here to there,
trying to prove that I belong.
Trying to win approval from people that I don't know.

And I look so strong
when the weight of all the world
don't take it's toll.
And I'd choose my side
if I believed in what was right,
but I'm all wrong.

I'm not larger than life, I'm not taller than trees.
Do I mean what I say or is it just this disease where I never go home?
Never telling the truth, how this life eats away.
Not admitting I'm fake.
And I'm questioning whether this whole thing was worth it to die poor and all alone?

And I look so strong
when the weight of all the world
don't take it's toll.
And I'd choose my side
if I believed in what was right,
but I'm all wrong.

Just don't tell me this doesn't mean the world,
'Cause my ears would bleed and my heart would hit the floor.