Tips for people too smart to be happy

Some of us take life too seriously at times. We get lost on the meaningless complexities of it all and embrace the soap opera culture designed to make us feel some sort of worth in the giant empty volume that is existence.

We start questioning our reasons for reason, our overwhelming brain activity that turns to voices, hundreds of voices talking at the same time make it stop make it stop but the curiosity that hammers at the inside of our skulls will never end unless we drill a hole into the bone to make the muffled thuds escape.

The hammering inside my head was getting louder and I thought of repenting. I thought that if I start my life as a new person, an unknown, a persona non grata in the social circles that would actually accept me for the deformed freak that I am I can rectify it all. I believed that running away from my past, the past that contains so much resentment and bitterness, the past that contains visions of you that get more beautiful every minute that passes, even more vivid every minute that I forget what you look like

I thought about changing my lifestyle, my beliefs that has been chisseled into my soul to make you accept me. I considered embracing personal hygiene, pretending to be independent through career security, loving the world, loving something more than I love myself. I fooled myself into faking remorse, guilt, a conscience. I tried to be a better person, someone who is not a complete asshole who hates the very ground that you tread your tired assimilated naked feet upon.

But the truth is that I can never be any of that. I can never pretend to be the insipid go-getter who wants to spend Saturday evenings staring into your eyes and thank Jesus for being so fortunate to lead a content unhappy life devoid of loneliness but void of adventure. I can never take care of my teeth.

And for these reasons I praise Satan rather than praise you.

Lies.

I love lies. The more fucked up your lie the better. Make it so incredibly complex that you actually have to start living the lie, otherwise you might slip and be caught out. Lies are easy too. People enjoy being lied to, it gives them some sort of worth. With lies you can achieve anything. The most common use for lies are to get laid. Everybody does it. I think that if we as a species did not have the ability for creative truth, we may not even be here today. Okay, so lies has its cons as well. But to get some coital action, lie. It's easy. Women lie. Men lie. In the end you really don't know who or what you're fucking because you actually know nothing more about the person than the location of their genitals. And do you care about them as persons? Yet you lie yourself into their crotch under false pretenses and you see that thing lying there as nothing more than a quick fuck and if you're lucky, some breakfast and a smoke. At the end of the day it's really nothing more consensual rape and both parties involved are predator and prey.

But lies can also be used for much more entertaining pastimes than sex. With lies you can create an entirely new realm around yourself. You can become the thing you want to be. You can become the thing you want yourself projected as. Surely, our lord Lucifer would not come up to the surface all evil and shit. He'll be a nice guy. Probably have a dog. I think a border-collie to be exact. Named Patches. And then one day as he walks his dog down the road with old ladies sheepishly smiling and waving at him, little girls with missing teeth running towards him to pat Patches and give him a daisy he's gonna slice Patches in two with his lazer eyes and release the hounds of hell who will rip the little girls and old ladies to pieces until all that's left is piss and shit and guts and more shit. Then he'll go ahead and rip Jesus a new asshole. Who's your nice guy now bitches!? Fuck you! Hahahaha. Suckers. SUCKERS! Now I am not saying that all lies can have such wonderful endings, but one can dream. I mostly just use lies because I realised long ago that life is just a series of meaningless events placed on a timeline and for that reason why bother telling the truth at all. It's not going to have any impact on anything. So be creative. Lie. See if your lies can fuck up people's lives. See if your lies can fuck up your own life. Lie to the devil to get success, lie to god to save your soul.

But what is the point of all this crap I write? The point is that I'm not going to quit my shit. I'm going to go all the way. I'm reborn and reborn hard thanks to wise words from a satanic drug dealer. I'm gonna find a nice 18 year old girl and feed her until she weighs 500 kilograms and then dump her. I'm going to convince all my male friends that they are gay and when they remove their pants I'm going to laugh at their penis size. I'm going to piss off all the people that tolerate me and then make them like me again. I'm going to make a truckload of new friends and infect their fragile little minds with hatecancer until they become miserable fools and in a desperate attempt to make sense of it all drink poisoned Kool Aid in a mass ceremony so they can leave the planet behind and enter the 5th dimension. I'm going to write shit about people that I hate and post it all over the internet and leave them in bar toilets and not change the names to protect the innocent because nobody is fucking innocent. I'm going to write Felicia Mabuza Suttle into a sitcom, sell my soul to Satan and have e-tv screen it. I'M GOING TO FLY TO FUCKING LONDON TO HAVE ONE BEER AND FLY BACK JUST SO I CAN TELL ALL THOSE PUSSIES WHO ALWAYS TALK ABOUT THEIR TIME IN LONDON THAT I WAS THERE BUT THE BEER SUCKED SO I CAME BACK. I WANT SO MUCH FUCKING DEBT THAT I'LL HAVE TO FILE FOR BANKRUPTCY AND THEN I'M GOING TO BLOW MY BRAINS OUT ON STAGE DURING A OPERA ON MY BIRTHDAY BECAUSE I'M SO FUCKING ROCK & ROLL THAT I SHIT POWER CHORDS. Because I'm an asshole-lio-lio.

Of course, everything written above could just be lies.