March7 2022
Maintenant, chaque fois qu'on essaie d'se ranger
De s'installer tranquilles dans un meublé
Dans les trois jours, voilà le tac, tac, tac
Des mitraillettes qui reviennent à l'attaque
Bonnie and Clyde
Bonnie and Clyde
Un de ces quatre, nous tomberons ensemble
Moi j'm'en fous, c'est pour Bonnie que je tremble
Quelle importance qu'ils me fassent la peau
Moi Bonnie, je tremble pour Clyde Barrow
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Dating fat women because you think it’s all you can get!
Having a shitty job because you think it’s all you can get!
Joining a gang because you think it’s the only place you’ll matter!
These lives, scarcity mindset embodied! A friend, great friend, looked me in the eye the other day. Confessed he was all over fat women two years ago. “Dog????…” *Visibly disgusted*
“Dude, I was alllllll over them but it was also in the worst mental and physical state of my life” (he was fat too) he said he thought they were all he could get. Formerly handsome, he’d dragged his own standard down to this. He’s better now. But that sticks with you… you may have nightmares remembering these things..
& yesterday girl at hangout, depressed pseudo introspective outbursts of “this is kind of it. No spring breaks, summer to look forward to. Feel like I’m working all the time with nothing to look forward too”
All of this is tiring.
Normal People Problems. Normal People Habits. Afraid to again ask for ketchup when the waitress forgets a 3rd time.
Complaining about life instead of turning it into fierce anger hidden just under the surface lurking waiting impatiently to pounce yet still be strategically compartmentalized by the layer of social awareness that exist and thus turns outward exercising charisma to mask this volcanic disgust only opting to channel it, when alone, into targeted output designed to ripple.
Life can always get better and in my personal experience it can all change in <24hrs with the right alignment of divine intervention.
The Real of the world aren’t getting bogged down by damaging pessimistic views like this. For us (me, speaking for Us): it’s a challenge. My goal is to Avoid becoming like U. “These are the best years of your life” were the best thing I could have ever heard because it always came for sunken eyed globs.
message from reader.
Had to look up Gavin Mcinnes (Cofounded Vice at 24… I release my first editorial mag/newspaper in mere weeks…. I’m on track)(apparently he is Canadian but still has some sort of creative Fight in him) this is interesting. This story was a wild ride. I’m not sharing out of consideration for the Experiencer but good Youthful troublemakin’ story. POWERSENT.
You’ve heard of old trick :
“If you’re rich pick her up for the first date in a used car. Real beat to hell car. Or just hyper normal Honda Accord. Whichever you need to move down a socioeconomic class. Then judge her reaction. See if she’s shallow.” I’m not rich. If you’re rich chime in. My car has cracked windshield ripped leather burn marks chipped paint too-low tire pressure survives on 1/2 tank of gas religiously.
But: This old trick: you can modernize it to fit with the times: by *Pretending* to be ideologically poor. Zero Virtue or present day humanity to your name. See if she is ride or dox. Homophobic slander. Anti immigrant. Trans people aren’t real just a product of social engineering by CIA or some other ill intentioned team of freaks. The homeless should be exterminated.
Get vile. Wicked. Sick and Twisted. You don’t have to believe it to say it. You don’t have to really drive a shitty car.
“This guys a great musician but he looks like a faggot”
She stares at me. Passionately. Full of emotion. I’m an empath. This feels like love.
“Why the fuck would you say that?
The tension rising. This is fiery. Are we about to fuck at the Vogue party? Become the life of the whole party?
“He’s a good singer” I say. This should really be obvious. We’ve both been enjoying the concert for a half hour now.
Eyes glare, eyebrows twist in, teeth gritted, jaw linebacker tight. I’m about to take my shirt off.
“What? Not that part. Why did you call him that?”
If she can’t handle me at my most fascist she can’t handle me at my most socialist. Love is a spectrum. Can She Change You. Make you more tolerable. More with the times. A virtue signaling pioneer for pruhgrez. Will you be accepted at board meetings? Are you congress ready? You’ll adopt middle eastern babies. You’ll tuck in your polo. She wants you to donate to the Red Cross. Almost insistently you do. But you pause. You remember decades ago. When you used to lay awake after first realizing they’re a front for global child trafficking. It kept you up for days. Fuck them. I’m not donating a cent to their sinful authoritative ways. But it would look good. “Babe did you send the check to Red Cross?” It’s breakfast, four days later. You look down at your eggs. Thinking. They’re undercooked. Or too much olive oil. Remember when you slonked them. Raw? Actually liked it? “Babe did you hear me? Did you send the Red Cross check today?” Do you say no? Do you push back? Do you say the N word?
You’ll drive a Tesla. It’ll be hooked up to your Apple Watch. Your Watch will be hooked up to your Heart. The Tesla will begin slowly increasing speed. It’s at 20 over. What’s going on? Panik. You press the break. Nothing. Breaks. Nothing. 35 over. What the fuckS GOING ON! You remember the Tesla 35/8 Rapid Assist button built in and included at additional price. Thank God you shelled the extra money. Savvy consumer. You sigh soft release. Help is near! Click it. Robotic tone. 45 over. Hello Hello Hello? The breaks aren’t working the car is speeding up by itself help help are you there help! Laughing on the other end. Monotone laughing. Laughing. Binary laughing. Ha:1 ha:0 101010110. 70 over. Your heart feels like a knife entered it. Sharp pain. You clutch it. Right hand holding your brest. Right foot pressing breaks. Black. Nothing. Unconsciousness take over. The Teslas black box will erase this. Automatically, obviously. This is how the government will assassinate you in 2032. Your death certificated reads “Heart Attack.” The world will see how clotted your arteries were. So clotted you crash the tesla into a suburban street pole. So clotted you couldn’t make it out of the car. Your head falls forward. Laying on the horn. You’re discovered by the neighbors 11year of boy. He sees the horror. Death by clot. Tombed in a Tesla. But…. did he hear faint laughing from the car… did he pick up on the terrible injustice… does he let this built grow and festor inside of him. Like young Jim Morrison seeing dead indians on the side of the highway and having the eldest chiefs soul enter his. If Tesla stock ever drops maybe it’s this kid launching an attack after decades of planning… plotting. I’m just a soul who’s intention are good… O lord… please don’t let me be….. misunderstood.
What’s going on? Things good? Or great?
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GODSPEED
WINSTON
SOULED IDEA
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