When there’s nothing left to say, that’s usually the best time to say it…
If you wanna spend the remainder of your existence in this reality adhering to idiotic theories, junk science, religious models, contrived history, or whatever bullshit-de-jour your government is selling you, then that’s your call.
But if you want to spend your final days on this planet actually living in a manner that emulates some kind of harmonious calling within your heart, something that makes this insanity tolerable, then that’s your call too.
Either way, you’re fucked.
This “reality” is the penultimate experience of decay, misery, stress and suffering, all the while tempting you with golden, gleaming paths of love, harmony, and hope, which never quite seem to manifest.
And all roads unfailingly lead to an unceremonious struggle to gulp at least one more breath before succumbing to the ultimate inevitable.
But therein lies the Truth.
Choice is the only real deal.
So whatcha wanna do?
Clip fucking coupons to save a couple bucks at WalMart, or climb the highest perilous metaphorical mountain beckoning you, knowing — live or die — I’M FINALLY FULLY FUCKING ALIVE!!
The fucking Smartphone’s always ringing.
Figure out which unknown number you wanna answer…