"The reason I make my own clothes is because when I go out I know I’m the only one wearing that item"
I spend the majority of my free time in my room… days where all i do is get stoned and jack off trying to distract myself from myself. I don’t enjoy life… but it’s a privileged ennui that truly sickens me when I stop to think about it… and yet what exactly can I do? People say this is what our generation is. We were programmed to be consumers raised by hypocritical hippies riding the capitalist wave while preaching first world spirituality.
That’s comforting to believe… I guess it’s true for me in a way, but my dad never became some organic granola kingpin.
I truly don’t know what to believe. I have no solid idea of where I’m going and I feel constantly surrounded by people who know exactly where their paths are taking them. As much as I want to reiterate to myself that we’re all on our own path it’s just so fucking confusing. I feel like I’ll always be the odd one out… cursed to see escape in such an abstract form as to be pointless, unviable. The faeries aren’t real, they’re just the second hand cgi of some parsons graphic designer, taking you to the magical land of cheerios or someshit.
Is there a dislocated group of people spread across the internet thinking like me? Each holding their breath hoping that the next explosion will bring about a revolution?
The sun is shining here, the electricity and hot water are boundless and everyone avoids everyone because we all have it figured out.
I want to run but… would it matter where to? The plague of complacency is everywhere… or is it conditioned apathy?
sometimes you should post stuff you’d normally post on tumblr on Facebook… just to freak people the fuck out.