The Cow
Sometimes one can be a piece of shit, someone can suck and say horrendous stuff… Pretentious also… These times when you are clouded in all amounts of thoughts and you write some stupid stuff that sounds intelligent the moment you lay it out.. But actually grazes the lowest of what can be thought out…
I rode into the hazy countries, and found a cow.. Then moved, the wet grass bent with intention under my feet.. The cold embrace, little specks of water, running as the cow disappeared. I went not long after, seeking for shee. Found wet rocks, absent suns, current poles leveraging the earth, and cows a many… Mine might been near, somewhere in the flock. As I seeked for her she did not appear miserably in evidence, among all else.. I lost my cow. Why even look for a cow, I should go back home now…
This is how I feel when expressing something that might be dear to me.. Sometimes, the task at first seemed grand and a poetic journey, but the meaninglessness of it all at somepoint strikes, and either I destroy everything that I built, or do I just send the unpolished object in a fit of simile-rage.
Or resignation.. That I am worse than mediocre, and that I can’t accept it until I send everything flying away…
None are as miserable as the self aggrandizing person.. That I am sometimes..
Nonasked for I create the thing and it splatters a cake.. Some of the cherries are tasty still… But I have none a full plate to give.. Only the spares of a what-could-have-been..
courage
I take great pride in the courage I can sometimes display! I went from being one of the most introverted people to a blossoming young man with a lot of ebulliance! When I first arrived in a french speaking country, I refused to talk at first. Then I arrived in France after some time and this iteration was me refusing to talk to people at all.. I believe I still hate French people somewhat to this day though!
There were many things I couldn’t say.
These days it’s the opposite! I say too much.. Sometimes I can say mean stuff or really bashful criticism.. The worst thing is, that sometimes, I secretly feel good about it.. Society made jerks cool, not my fault!!
There are some people -that I hardly know- I can be entirely honest with and that makes me feel incredible. It’s probably that way because I don’t get to have bullshit interactions with them that I can focus on the essential.. These moments are the salt of my earth!
Homeless people often bother me.. Been called a fag by one of em sometimes ago, I always seem to have quite funny interactions with them. Sometimes though.. It can be meaningful.. Like this guy that I asked for tips or stores for a birthday gift.. After a long odyssey of looking for stuff, he casually told me his dreadful life details.. I don’t think I will share them here.. I hate that this is how life is, and that they will likely be stuck in this state for the rest of their lives, because we are too cowardly to do something about it..
We mostly aspire to some great heavens, only to be let down and await death for a reset of our mediocrity.. People up there flaunt their success, feel entitled to it.. They hate it when we shove their head deep in their shitty little droppings they leave on us… We should kick all these irksome guys toothless sometime!
These days I’m wondering, if I’m really not such a coward, then why shouldn’t I myself do something about this myself? No one else does..
weird
It often happens online that we overestimate our own idiosyncracy.. In the past it was the : « wow I’m so random lololol.. !» .. Nowadays the internet saying would probably be using some weird combination of words from tiktok that were beforethen pulled from incel websites : « I’m crazymaxxing rn frfr no cap… ! »
So I am in no rush to pretend that I’m different from anyone else. The truth of the matter is that if you look closely into it.. Girls… Boys… Adults.. Children.. Schizo and the rest… We are all the same ! The world is that boring ! We’re just the same little functions fed different data using the same algorithms ! That’s too bad…
Still.. I can sometimes feel different, or left out maybe, both wouldn’t be that uncommon. People keep reminding me (unprompted for) that I’m weird « why are you like that » « are you pretending or something » « are you on drugs or smth... » yadayada… That can sometimes be Langweilig… I don’t blame them either, I have thick skin I’m not a fucking loser either !
What’s more, whichsoever said these lines never really gave any explanation for why they thought so.. So I’m even at a loss for what’s wrong with me… Fuck em ? No, there are people I also find weird and I don’t hate myself for thinking that..
Sometimes I can take much pride in being weird, I’m quite a very intense person, so I can enjoy music and other carnal stuff to a very acute degree.. But the downsides are badder.. Like people will be uncomfortable around mey and mostly keep to their basic ass convos that they will forget the day after, drowning their hours in boring shit.. (that’s me being salty a bit!) There isn’t anything cool being weird besides the energy really.. It’s hard to make friends because people will be weary of you, the feedback causes you to be weary of them, being in turn even weirder, and so on. You’re stuck in this spiral of mediocrity.
I’m both jealous and scornful towards easy relationships.. I hate acceptance talk as well ! There are no pre-chewed methods nor guidelines to whats a good life..
Kundera said it so, that If we were to judge that instead of a Nietzschean eternal return, that life was just a single instance, then there would be nothing to compare it to.. No right way to take.. Whatever.. Let’s wait for the big bulky deathguy riding his steed of apocalypse with two machineguns and let him take me ! I don’t care ! I’m only scared of growing old !