Within this culture wealth is measured by our ability to consume and destroy…
Seeing the insanity of it comes as a direct contradiction to our daily function. We can sample humanity’s dissonance in the acronym GDP (gross domestic product), whereby a tiny phrase serves substitute for the enormity of converting all life into human-serving commodities at a rate of 85 trillion dollars a year (the value of the world economy). To understand that better, a stack of 85 trillion dollar bills would be about 5,768,618 miles high. This is like going to the moon 25 times.
Yet, still, for the most delusional of our species, it’s not enough. The drive to expand, consume, exploit at rates ever escalating is presented within the global market as a zero-sum game. Either our economy must grow, or we will suffer. Either our economy must grow faster than all other economies, or our nation will suffer.
If the rate at which we convert the planet into human consumption slows, we call it a recession — nothing to celebrate, for to us recession represents austerity, loss of jobs, and altogether diminished livelihoods. If the rate at which we convert the planet into human consumption reverts, we call it a depression — again, nothing to celebrate, for to us economic depression represents declining power, that maybe we are in fact not exceptional or separate from the natural world.
In this culture of death only if and when we expand our evisceration of the planet can we be comfortable in our lives.
im sayin life is like coke
im higher than I think
& I stupidly want more
of all the fucked up shit i have heard and experienced, by far the craziest shit i’ve ever known is how morbidly people will twist their own mortality to make themselves feel more important. they do this by burying DEAD BODIES IN THE GROUND IN FANCY BASKETS.
this i do not understand. have never understood.
who does that help? it helps the living who are suffering during their time of mourning? do you honestly feel better knowing the body of your loved one, though lifeless and NOTHING LIKE THEM WHEN THEY WERE ALIVE, is buried six feet under ground? is it so that, in the event you can’t handle it down the road, and you just like, NEED to see them, are you honestly going to dig them up or some shit?
i don’t get it. never got it. fucking morbid. isn’t it easier just to accept the fact that we are animals, just like all the others, and we’ve been given this crazy miraculous thing called a life BUT at the cost of one day dying?
death can be so unfair, so inconvenient. i get it. i know it. i’ve known it since i had to reschedule my picture day appointment in 8th grade to attend my aunt’s funeral. and that wasn’t even my first. death fucking sucks and as far as that suffering you feel from having the one you love so unexpectedly ripped away from you, trust me, i know it. i get it. but how does gently putting their body in a basket in the ground make it any better? i would maybe understand if the bodies were simply laid in the ground to decompose and join with nature eventually…… but this? bodies in boxes in the ground? what if the dinosaurs did that?
“People are afraid of themselves, of their own reality; their feelings most of all. People talk about how great love is, but that’s bullshit. Love hurts. Feelings are disturbing. People are taught that pain is evil and dangerous. How can they deal with love if they’re afraid to feel? Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they’re wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It’s all in how you carry it. That’s what matters. Pain is a feeling. Your feelings are a part of you. Your own reality. If you feel ashamed of them, and hide them, you’re letting society destroy your reality. You should stand up for your right to feel your pain.” - Jim Morrison
60mg kindcaps indica capsule + johnny wonder cone + vick’s nyquil = NOT soberrrrrrrrrrrrrr
i don’t make sense to a lot of people. but usually i at least make sense to myself. i feel like i’m just waiting on so many things, i have such a thirst for progress and right now is patience and it’s a bummer i worked so hard for so long just to inevitably wait in line at the-uncle-sam-rapes-your-ass-and-makes-you-glad-about-it-protection-plan extravaganza
at this point, i wanna get out of line. i don’t wanna be here. with these people, at this competition.
all i’m discovering is what i’m not.
swag won’t pay the bills but apparently neither will your degree