I'm a virgin, well sort of.
Moreover I live off my parents.
I know, I don't deserve to exist.
The Gods should've snuffed me out long ago, but they did not.
I'm still a boy, at 30, think of me as lapping up the warm milk from my mothers breasts, pre****scent, snug in a post-womb, womb, a womb with a window.
I'm terrified of work, i have no confidence, i'm afraid everyone will find out about me and my shames.
I'm scum, i'm the kind of crud you find on your boots after a long walk in the woods and/or at a construction sight, dried and crusted.
I am feces, urine and dirt.
I'm so bad that even after all that, I still manage to be proud of something, God knows what, but I have some pride in me, I even think I'm better than you somehow, beneath the shame, i just don't know how to prove it.
Nothing in my life has worked out.
In absence of pressure to work, i devoted myself to various things in search of meaning for myself, art, philosophy, music, religion, armed robbery, homelessness, but nothing really panned out for me see, my heart always wavered, there are pluses and minuses in everything, so now i'm free, free to be a floating penis, injecting myself into others affairs and in places i don't belong, laughing, trolling life.
there is no value here man, no words, nothing can be communicated, no meaning can be conveyed.
I hate this cumbersome brain and language we've been given, any portion of the cosmos can not be encompassed in something so inarticulate, inflexible and rigid as a thought or a word, so do away with words, get rid of thoughts, liberate yourself.
Man has still not found the right way to live yet, it may take us a million years before we've figured 1% of it out, but here we are attached to our old ways, a year even a day is too old to still be doing something in my book.
I'm not sure if what I wrote belongs here, so a 1000 sincere apologies to you.
Moreover I live off my parents.
I know, I don't deserve to exist.
The Gods should've snuffed me out long ago, but they did not.
I'm still a boy, at 30, think of me as lapping up the warm milk from my mothers breasts, pre****scent, snug in a post-womb, womb, a womb with a window.
I'm terrified of work, i have no confidence, i'm afraid everyone will find out about me and my shames.
I'm scum, i'm the kind of crud you find on your boots after a long walk in the woods and/or at a construction sight, dried and crusted.
I am feces, urine and dirt.
I'm so bad that even after all that, I still manage to be proud of something, God knows what, but I have some pride in me, I even think I'm better than you somehow, beneath the shame, i just don't know how to prove it.
Nothing in my life has worked out.
In absence of pressure to work, i devoted myself to various things in search of meaning for myself, art, philosophy, music, religion, armed robbery, homelessness, but nothing really panned out for me see, my heart always wavered, there are pluses and minuses in everything, so now i'm free, free to be a floating penis, injecting myself into others affairs and in places i don't belong, laughing, trolling life.
there is no value here man, no words, nothing can be communicated, no meaning can be conveyed.
I hate this cumbersome brain and language we've been given, any portion of the cosmos can not be encompassed in something so inarticulate, inflexible and rigid as a thought or a word, so do away with words, get rid of thoughts, liberate yourself.
Man has still not found the right way to live yet, it may take us a million years before we've figured 1% of it out, but here we are attached to our old ways, a year even a day is too old to still be doing something in my book.
I'm not sure if what I wrote belongs here, so a 1000 sincere apologies to you.
Last edited: