the return

 listening to: Unwed Sailor - The Marionette And The Music Box

We’re all ever so decrepit. Yes! It’s that time again! Time for nihilistic, doom-mongering bull that shall do its best to perpetuate our sadistic notions of ‘life’!

I have so many movies to watch, so many to get (or download). Can’t find the time, can’t find the time.

We graciously accept. I’ve been wondering lately, is it pathetic or admirable to find 40+ year old Marxists?

Admirable because they still believe in that sense of ideological purpose, or of a fantastically better world.

Pathetic because they still cling to such idealistic notions that are nowhere near embedded in any form or substance of reality.

Either way, both have a tendency to be insipid. The realist proclaiming a ‘truer’ sense of self and reality, while the idealist will trump up ideas and notions to make the world a drastically better place that’s infinitely more appealing.

I feel like breaking out into poetry now, but that’d just seem fuck weird. Not to mention it just conjured up images of myself dressed up in a clown-suit jumping around as if avoiding a bucketload of cockroaches.

Fuck, how i hate cockroaches. Crushing them is rather endearing, in all honesty, and the white ‘juice/blood’ that flows out just reminds me more of eclairs.

I laughed a bit while reading Bertrand Russell’s Has Man A Future? I don’t know why, for i’m certain its not intended to be funny as such; but there’s amusement there. Maybe inculcated by Russell himself, a sort of in-between-the-lines subliminal/ironic humour?

I still want to smash that guy’s face. Not Russell, ofcourse.