I like to tap out these words like a dwarf tapping his little pickaxe in a cave to loosen diamonds, filling each one with all my love for humanity, sheltering under its umbrella of happiness while fucking plastic objects while looking at pictures of someone else fucking plastic objects.
All your lovely little political policies and efforts to keep as many of your kind alive as possible, while behind that you attempt to be the one who has enough food to feed yourself and barter for a fuck.
All this in time to the rhythm of music that you probably have a stronger opinion about than the fact that someone out there has enough money to pay off the Greek national debt without making a noticeable hole in his bank account.
And celebrity is the panacea, curing murderers and paedophiles, ranting bigots and dictators of their perceived nastiness ("They can't be all bad if they're famous! They're just a BIG CHARACTER!")
And poor Pierre lies amouldering while Fidel engages in frottage with Lady Gaga in her cybernetic ladygarden, and all the while my benefactors, Mungolian Jet Set, harbour me begrudgingly and offer just the occasional kebab and a TV set which I watch alone or in the company of an ascetic poet who fears the sight of female genitalia more than world war 3 (or an occasional Irish Muppet Show reject who dislikes almost everything I do and say).
And STILL, and YET, and DESPITE ALL THIS ...
I continue filling these pages with words just to pass the time, bored and disgusted, disgusted by my boredom, and bored by my disgust, boredom created by this spent Earth in all its disgusting contrdictions, hypocrisies and general ignorance of itself and its stupidity.
I can only conclude that I actually must love it all.
Now THAT is depressing.
So are you offended? If so, what is it that offends you? My use of language? My attitude? Or the world I describe?
