What am I supposed to do with all
Of this
Unhinged
Passion —
Okay, calling it passion is a stretch.
It’s boiling ******* anger
For my own existence.
What am I to do?
Share it? With whom?
Who might appreciate?
Even if they do,
I’d probably be dissatisfied
About something.
I’m sure of it.
Why am I so
Existentially dissatisfied?
At what point will I think
Anything is enough,
Or worthy of my
Approval?
Does it need to destroy me in order for me to respect it?
I’m making myself sound like a *****
Really, I am
But a self aware one.
Like, I realize that I’m a pretentious *******
And I hate myself for it,
So that you don’t have to.
Why do I long for attention,
When I am so
Disgusted
By it
Just pathetic,
It’s like I think
the window which I’m looking out of
Makes me better
Than those who have a different view.
Sometimes I wish I was stupid so that I wouldn’t think I was better than other people.
Or at least stupid enough
To ignore my own hypocrisy.
Why the ****
does it always come back to
That story about
The flowers for that dead ******* rat
Is it too late to get a lobotomy?
Sep 1, 2021
Sep 1, 2021 at 12:34 AM UTC
What am I supposed to do with all
Of this
Unhinged
Passion —
Okay, calling it passion is a stretch.
It’s boiling ******* anger
For my own existence.
What am I to do?
Share it? With whom?
Who might appreciate?
Even if they do,
I’d probably be dissatisfied
About something.
I’m sure of it.
Why am I so
Existentially dissatisfied?
At what point will I think
Anything is enough,
Or worthy of my
Approval?
Does it need to destroy me in order for me to respect it?
I’m making myself sound like a *****
Really, I am
But a self aware one.
Like, I realize that I’m a pretentious *******
And I hate myself for it,
So that you don’t have to.
Why do I long for attention,
When I am so
Disgusted
By it
Just pathetic,
It’s like I think
the window which I’m looking out of
Makes me better
Than those who have a different view.
Sometimes I wish I was stupid so that I wouldn’t think I was better than other people.
Or at least stupid enough
To ignore my own hypocrisy.
Why the ****
does it always come back to
That story about
The flowers for that dead ******* rat
Is it too late to get a lobotomy?
I hate myself for hating myself for hating other people. Also yes I did really want to be a nihilist when I first studied Camus & the three schools **** I settled on exestential nihilism for awhile. now, me and the Absurd sit and smoke blunts together and laugh at my pathetic existence