Welcome, one and all, to the incongruent ravings of an inferior mind!
I smoke two joints in the morning
I smoke two joints at night
I smoke two joints in the afternoon
'Cause it makes me feel alright.
I smoke two joints, in time of peace
And two in time of war.
I smoke two joints before I smoke two joints,
and then I smoke two more.
Goodnight television, goodnight light. Goodnight all that other bullshit that guy wrote that one time.
I was observing to my mother (because, as previously mentioned, I have made myself to much of a shut-in to observe anything to anybody outside of my immediate family) earlier today that this world we live in is composed of lines and strings. There are lines that we do not cross, and there are strings that hold us where we stand. Then there are those people who decide that they do not want to acknowledge those lines, or who have the luxury of not being tied down by any strings. Those people are free, free from the confines of our society, free to do as they please, go where they please, with who they please. I once thought that perhaps one day I would be freed from my cage of social lines and strings, but it appears that every time I get a glimpse of freedom, another line or string stretches out from the horrible glutinous mass, that monster we call "Civilization."
Tonight is a night unlike any other night. Why? I do not know. I am fully aware of things I hadn't even contemplated until tonight. Horribly aware. I can see into the distance, I can peer through time and space; and what I see there terrifies me. I long to die, to pass beyond that final thin veil, but what would await me on the other side? Shadow and flame.
I am insane. The fact that I can recognize my own insanity shows that I am not quite insane enough yet to act upon the insane impulses that crowd my every thought and emotion, but I am a madman nonetheless. I hate with a fire, I would vomit down the throats of mankind, had I the proper stomache contents to give each one their due. I love with a horrible, clinging love that will not release me, despite my enormous hatred of myself and, being brutally honest, pretty much everything else.
I have never had any good fortune without a little bad fortune mixed in, and the good fortunes I have had have been few and far between.
Yes, tonight I am aware, terribly aware. That is the curse of mankind, to be aware of our own existence. If only we could learn to be ignorant of it, to live out our lives like a worker bee: short, and meaningless. Instead we must be aware of the fact that our lives are indeed short and meaningless but it is our lot to endure them and know them for what they are. Tonight I am terribly aware of my pointless life, tonight I wish to end it.
But unfortunately for all considered, I am a coward. I will sleep tonight and dream my troubled dreams, and tomorrow I will wish that I could have overcome that cowardice and put a bullet down my throat when I had the chance.
It would seem, my friends and brethren, that ignorance truly is bliss, and that this bliss is denied to even the best of us. Therefore, I can never hope to obtain it, for I am among the least of us, scraped up from the dregs of the human masses and slapped together in a horribly mishappen body afflicted with illnesses that (according to medical science) don't exist. My cowardice keeps me from peace, so I cannot say I am sorry I don't have the will to cut my throat or eat a bullet or swallow all the pills in my cabinet, because although my vile hatred touches upon all things, it is myself that I hate the most.