Iconoclast's Last Isolation.

So I turn on my music louder, just to shut out the outside fridge buzz of the world. I've found a new place to live.... again. A new life to live, I guess. It just surprises me so. What exactly you might ask? That my lifestyle has ended me up here, at my older sister's house, twice in less than a year. Once by choice, once without any other options left. How the F**K am I not in jail right now? How is my body able to still work after the torment and punishment i've put it through, intentionally and coincidentally? I should be dead. But I'm not. Haha. Does that mean there is a God? Is there some sort of higher purpose all of us are here for? Some sort of divine prophetical mission that only a few of us are lucky enough to pursue?

Probably not. I'm probably just a lucky m**********r honestly. I've lost so many friends, family, loved ones, girlfriends, hookups, best friends, acquaintances, pets, brain cells, possessions, cars, phones, money, and everything you might want to hold on as a decent non-self-destructing-human-being. 

This is the world that I left behind, my guilt consuming me, forcing me back into everything I've thrown away and left for granted. And goddamnit, I'm actually excited with a smile on my face. That's how I've always been and felt I guess. Able to go through all the horseshit in life and deal with all the pigfuckers who tried to put me down and take away what little faith I've been dealt. A firm believer of self-chosen-fate over pre-determined destiny/pathways. There is a crossroad where every man on this earth will eventually find themselves at. I've been down both paths. now it's time to make a new one.

Why do forks have four prongs and not two like the fork in the road stories we always here? Because whoever the f**k made the fork was fat as S**T and wanted to ingest as much as possible in the shortest amount of time, that's why. Why be bothered worrying what you can get on the left side or the right side? There's still two more middle paths to eat, and I'm an underfed tweaking college student.

I feel everyone has these thoughts, but only few seem to vocalize their opinions so descriptively, allowing other people to see their true thoughts and emotions. I feel I have this gift and this curse being born with this. To tell people how I truly feel, maybe some kid can use this as a way to better himself, to think a little bit more clearly, and if he hasn't already, he can have someone say," Hey kid, it's gonna be alright. F**k those other people. You're golden, holden.". At the same time, doing this makes me as vulnerable as a quarterback without an offensive line. I'm going to be sacked. And I think I'm okay with that. Because it takes more pain and suffering to be a better person, so the more the merrier. Like a mouse on a endless wheel. 

However, my thoughts uncollected and unrestrained, I feel like no person has before. I feel I have a mysterious purpose, a weird one, a mission sent from the god of the crazies, the unusual, the weird. The castaways will rise up one day. We've all bathed in the same water, you know? So why hate others for being more unclean than us. We all have our dirty little secrets, our chains, our hidden dark past, pain that torments us everyday. We're so much different as much as we are the same. 

I wish I had a legitimate fuel, burning me forward, pushing me to do what's good and what's right. The only thing that motivates me is my own self-destructing trapping fate. The more I come down on myself and refuse to come down, the more better off I am. The more torment that occurs to me at my own hands actually makes me smile a bit, it gives me a reason to change. That might sound hypocritical. But f**k it. We are all hypocrites as much as we don't want to admit it, and i'm not immune from human error either.

Suicide and lethal sights are the only thing in my future. But if nothing is predestined, then I have my own path to choose, my own emotions to have, my problems to deal with, my life to live. I can't wait to have a daughter or a son to love their daddy. I will have every single one of my f*****g friends at the wedding and all that bullshit. But I'm only nineteen and exaggerating my suffering. I've never been at this low of a f*****g low though. How do you change a whole working economy, political structure, and attitude of a man who's never had much to lean on or fall back upon?

No one said it's fair. I guess that's the truest statement I've ever heard. Fair and equality do not exist in this world. Don't believe me? Look at the suburban fuckfest you live in. It was made with the right ideas. But good intentions pave the pathway to your hell. Now it's over-infested with land-rapers and w***e-mongers feeding their offspring the only kind of truth they know: the same infected bullshit they've been infested with since THEIR birth. This is where ignorance is born, recycled, and repeated on the kids who lather their brains upon their parents lies.

What to do, what to do, what to do.....hmmmm. This stream of conscious Gonzo dreaming personal journalism seems to be the only escape from my own fear-smitten reality of a downward spiral. Music is the background overture to my self-defeat. Self-pity never solved anything. So just like before, I go on with my act, for that's what I am, a musician, a writer, a philosopher, and an actor, a renaissance man stuck in the technological fear/money driven age where megabytes of reality are erased from human memories in place for emotional-detachment from basic feelings we all share. As depressing and one-sided as this sounds, it is so inspiring and motivating. It makes me want to f**k some s**t up, voice my opinion, let other people know they aren't the only ones who feel this way, that every person basically feels the same, and at the end of the day, we all say hey, at least i'm here to live another day.