Making Sense of the Random... or not

I was born into the world, and saying it is hard to care about things is a vast understatement.

We already know life is going to end, and we really think conformity is important - that would be funny it it wasn't so tragic.

If you don't like having garbage thrown directly at your face without warning and with an inexplicable fury, I don't think you'll consider life much of a gift so much as an unfathomable blindside.

We hear all the rhetoric about innovation and advancement, I wish it were true, but it only serves to facilitate new boundaries for what is mindless and utterly dumbfounding.

I can understand why some people want to bludgeon their minds into oblivion by means of substances, for they are simply matching the frequency of the world like a receiver does a particular radio station.

What is there to do when any attempt to grasp the problems plaguing you is reminiscent of a slime passing between your fingers only to collect and muster once again after it has passed through the might of your knuckles?

Life is constantly making a fool of you and watching you try haphazardly to make sense of a drunken voyage in which you are taking orders from a mentally diseased captain and are at the mercy of other sadistic forces beyond your control.

Everyday you've woken up shows you have the endurance and desire to take an unadulterated, furious punch directly in the face and are just waiting for another and another, and you've no doubt lived through many thousands of days.

If you like seeing your efforts go to waste while you are helpless to do anything about it all the while observing breathtaking buffoonery prevail, you are sure to get a lot out life and congrats to you.