Wednesday, 21 May 2014

Piketty Rand don't matter, man / Let's have some human feelings before it's too late!!!

I don't need to see no more anti-Piketty wank like ... I ain't linking to it, man. Jesus! (Does Guy Bentley feel better now?) Jesus H. Christ! I mean ... I try not to mean, I try not to. / It doesn't matter which side of the debate you're on, dear reader(s). You just need to know one thing (as if I care): God is watching you. / Yeah, He's around where you are now. He knows what you're doing. He knows what you're thinking. You can live any way you want to live, son. God has given you free will, after all. But if He sees anything He doesn't like, He's going to fuck you up after you die. Yeah, man. After. Death isn't the worst thing that can happen. Believe it, or don't believe. It's your funeral. / So, do what you want to do. Live the way you want to live. Life is short, my friend(s). But hell is forever.

And I don't care for Piketty either. I'm so tired. I don't want to hear anyone's "opinion", you dig? Not even if they're right. Right or wrong, what's the difference? I just want some fucking silence!

Stop talking, stop thinking. Take a day off. / Oh, see if you can fucking feel something, you robot nutter! Are you with me, or are you against me? I want genuine people with human feelings. All a-ROUND with me. Smiling. But silent. Not believing anything. I don't want to hear some shithead's personal philosophy. Code of honour. Political beliefs. Ha! You can take that rubbish to hell with you.

The problem is, people's minds are trapped in the world. They don't know the cosmos. They can't detach, get aloof. It's sticky jam, you know? And a dead soul is a dead fly in the jam, waiting for spider the devil. That much is obvious.

I'm out there in the cosmos! My body is a fucking cardboard cut-out for all the use it is in getting me wise and elevated, yeah? Shit! I'm Buddha Zarathustra motherfucker ... gone! And all I'm asking is, try it for yourself, just once. See if you like it, man. What are you scared of? Your parents? Your partner? Your friends? Your boss? They don't read this blog. It's not their scene at all. They're dead in the jam. You'll have to leave them behind. Oh, come with me ...