Sunday, April 19, 2009

Tzazae

OK. Would some nerdy university type reader point out to me the exact difference between a hydrocarbon and a carbohydrate?

If you are an annoying, nerdy reader and you don’t know the answer to that, die in shame. You don’t deserve to live. If you do, please go to the comments section and post the answer. After you do that, quickly run along and get a life. Or better still, die. I will reject your comment in either case.

Alright, I need a favour from you. I should not have insulted you. Sorry.

Die in shame anyway.

In school, they tried to sell fructose as a carbohydrate and paraffin as a hydrocarbon. I called their bluff. Without going into boring details, let me tell you that essentially they are both the same. So I asked them why paraffin cannot be a carbohydrate, as it also releases energy upon combustion. Then we could all have candle wax for dinner. They looked shocked.

It is not the wrongness of their world that annoys the marrow out of my bones. It is their stubbornness to not change their outlook and their pig-headed reluctance to believe that other, more elegant worlds might possibly exist.

Education is an industry and it is run by incompetent morons.

What lies have I been fed! What a vortex of deception my life has come to be! I think it is sad that the truest thing in my life right now is a song. It is sad that no one understands the anguish. Because all I've got are words, and sometimes words are not sufficient. Sometimes I don't even have words. But the honesty of its music is unbelievable. It just cuts straight through the curtains of life's nonsense. It is fresh and white and pure and the filth of the world cannot touch it, no matter how hard it tries. I feel like I am gazing at the northern star from a wildly spinning carousel of lies. I don’t mind the discomfort, the hypnotism, the deception and the nausea as long as I have my sight on the distant, constant star, which looks at me and smiles, as my father used to when I sat on uncomfortable carousels when I was a little boy. I couldn't wait to get off the carousel and run back to him. If I had to give up everything else in the world and have one thing, it would be my childhood. I detest the pretence of being a man, of knowing what I'd be doing 5 years hence. I want to die a boy. Yes, that is what I would ask for. I have fallen in love with a star.

I am scratching and clawing at the frayed ends of sanity, struggling to hold on to impossibly thin strands of normalcy. Somebody throw me a frickin’ bone!

Terrible day + Coffee = Bad idea.

Apologies.