It's not that I want the Pope to die, or anything. I'm just hopeful that some sort of supernatural event will occur immediately following the event. It's not everyday a pope dies, you know. Surely there's some sort of mystical signifigance to it. What is your pope's death wish?
My wish is for everyone to be aesthetically pleasing to look at (though not to an extent that would destabilize society to the point where all productive activity is abandoned in favor of a massive orgy). Sure, somewhere down the line the fact that we're all pretty will make it so all looks are considered to be unremarkable. But that's for another generation to care about! Hey, maybe it wouldn't even be that bad for the concept of beauty to be removed altogether. And if the people from the world of tomorrow want uniqueness again, I'm sure that futuristic body modifications will be more than able to accomodate them. Or they can all wearing their own unique Halloween masks. I envy them, being able to spend all their days huffing the sweet, sweet odor of latex. Or whatever those things are made of.
You know those commercials where they tell you to donate pennies to starving kids? Is it really right for a country to depend on handouts? How hard is it to introduce new, easy to grow crops to starving nations? Is agriculture simply more difficult than I imagine it to be? Hell, I was under the impression that all the apple trees on the East Coast were planted by one smelly man with a pot on his head. And today's cookwear would make a far more suitable hat than whatever iron he was modeling, so productivity would no doubt be doubled.
I think that I fear living my life the same way many people fear dying. It's all pretty much rooted in uncertainty of what that'll entail, though I know I should probably expect punishment and some degree of suffering. Living an exhausting, sub-par life is hardly the same as being made to fester in the bowels of Lucifer's chinchilla, but I can certainly convince myself that they're very similar. You know, through the magic of colorful exaggeration.
After finishing Lullaby, I had to get some more Chuck P. (because it's not as though my days are brimming with signifigant activity). There's this one line in Invisible Monsters about how our parents are God, because they bring us into this world and we depend upon them for our continued existence. And, when we start to develop our own ideas of what to do with our lives (which conflict with those of our creator), we become Satan. If that didn't make you want to read that book, then perhaps the promise of self-mutilation and transexual hijinks will pique your interest. Yes?
On a slightly more relevant note, I'm unsure of how to tell my parents about the whole being depressed and screwing up with school thing. Therapist lady offered to help with the explaining, but it'd be kinda harsh to just make them her problem and disappear until the dust settles. Not only that, but I am a grown man and I demand respect. Surely I can handle this. It's still the sort of thing I want to put off until the last minute, though.
"Hey Mom, you know how you thought I was in college during the last two years? Yeah... I've just been behind the couch."
My wish is for everyone to be aesthetically pleasing to look at (though not to an extent that would destabilize society to the point where all productive activity is abandoned in favor of a massive orgy). Sure, somewhere down the line the fact that we're all pretty will make it so all looks are considered to be unremarkable. But that's for another generation to care about! Hey, maybe it wouldn't even be that bad for the concept of beauty to be removed altogether. And if the people from the world of tomorrow want uniqueness again, I'm sure that futuristic body modifications will be more than able to accomodate them. Or they can all wearing their own unique Halloween masks. I envy them, being able to spend all their days huffing the sweet, sweet odor of latex. Or whatever those things are made of.
You know those commercials where they tell you to donate pennies to starving kids? Is it really right for a country to depend on handouts? How hard is it to introduce new, easy to grow crops to starving nations? Is agriculture simply more difficult than I imagine it to be? Hell, I was under the impression that all the apple trees on the East Coast were planted by one smelly man with a pot on his head. And today's cookwear would make a far more suitable hat than whatever iron he was modeling, so productivity would no doubt be doubled.
I think that I fear living my life the same way many people fear dying. It's all pretty much rooted in uncertainty of what that'll entail, though I know I should probably expect punishment and some degree of suffering. Living an exhausting, sub-par life is hardly the same as being made to fester in the bowels of Lucifer's chinchilla, but I can certainly convince myself that they're very similar. You know, through the magic of colorful exaggeration.
After finishing Lullaby, I had to get some more Chuck P. (because it's not as though my days are brimming with signifigant activity). There's this one line in Invisible Monsters about how our parents are God, because they bring us into this world and we depend upon them for our continued existence. And, when we start to develop our own ideas of what to do with our lives (which conflict with those of our creator), we become Satan. If that didn't make you want to read that book, then perhaps the promise of self-mutilation and transexual hijinks will pique your interest. Yes?
On a slightly more relevant note, I'm unsure of how to tell my parents about the whole being depressed and screwing up with school thing. Therapist lady offered to help with the explaining, but it'd be kinda harsh to just make them her problem and disappear until the dust settles. Not only that, but I am a grown man and I demand respect. Surely I can handle this. It's still the sort of thing I want to put off until the last minute, though.
"Hey Mom, you know how you thought I was in college during the last two years? Yeah... I've just been behind the couch."
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
You know, beat the odds.
Be able to carry the thing around on my neck even though bears are really heavy.
Oh, and also not have them maul me to death.
I've always thought that would look pretty cool.
My wish would be to have that massive war of the Orgy you fear.