Saturday, June 05, 2010

The Word According to Squid Part 6

On Beliefs
This evening, I realized that I have no more black-and-white beliefs. Then again, my epiphanies always seem to come to me when I'm on the porcelain god so you can imagine the quality of said divine revelations.

Cerebral Intermission
Something savage, something primal, something slithering and carnal, something leering, something thirsting, something mad and everlasting, something clever, something silent, something swift and unrepentant, something rabid, something nameless, something howling and relentless...

On the Rain
Staccato rain tapping in morse code a vengeful lover's curse: you do not deserve to be free, you deserve to be wretched.

On Supervillainy
Hatred empowers. Power emboldens. And by the way I spew lines like this I shoulda studied Supervillainy in college.

Cerebral Intermission again
Let eat of flesh the subtile dust.

On Righteousness
We are the yardstick by which you measure your righteousness.

On Malcontents
We are displeased by the world as we see it. We are unhinged enough to try to remake it in our own image. We are angry enough to tear it all down if it won't change. If you want to slap a label on us, call us by the name we've been known of old: malcontent. Not bohemian, not hippie, not satanist, not heretic, not punk...

Good Thing It Ain't True
Psalm 34:11 means I am SO screwed.

On Wit
If you're as drunk as I am, you won't really give a shit if you're being witty or not. Screw the universe. Hail Satan.

On Likker
I'm an old man. Liver ain't what it usta be. That Gran Matador will bring me closer to my grave. Where's the shot glass?

On Self-Esteem
Dear Squid: Why do you keep embarrassing yourself on the Internet? Love, Your Self-Esteem.

On Love Letters
I was fourteen. I was in high school. I recently discovered how to fap. I was in love for the first time. And because I thought I was clever, I cut my fingertip with a craft knife and started to write a love letter in my own blood. When the blood started clotting, I cut another fingertip. After a while, I had small cuts on all of my left hand's fingertips. But I finished the letter. It was a fucking masterpiece. Predictably, the girl avoided me like I had Ebola. You know who you are.

On Burdens
Love is bearing each other's burdens.

On Wisdom
Wisdom comes at the razor edge of humanity. The only way we can transcend the prison of mundanity, of expectations, and of the truths that we have been conditioned to swallow like religion and morality is through the exploration of the dark side of the human condition. Smoke that motherfucker and become a god. From our damnation comes our apotheosis.

On Propaganda
No one asks the Devil if everything said about him is true.

On Wounds
The wounds we bear from disappointment, grief, betrayal, abandonment, or heartache will last us our entire lives. Some of these wounds will turn into scars of wisdom. Some will never completely heal but will be covered by scabs of discretion. The rest will keep on bleeding rivulets of hatred and bitterness until the day we die.

Vox Populi, Vox Dei
If the voice of the people is the voice of God, then God must be a gossip and a liar.

On Pretension
I watch foreign movies at home so my neighbors will think I'm an artist.

On Grief
The world is too rude to pause for our grief.

I flaunt my vulnerability as I flaunt my lack of faith.

I'll tell you a secret if you promise not to tell anyone else. And I'm not being sarcastic here. Listen: I'm not really a nihilist. I'm a romantic. I keep expecting epiphanies to fall out of the sky. I can't have sex without falling in love. I can't fall in love without possessing. My heart breaks easily. When I bleed, everyone sees it. But that's just between the two of us. I have a reputation to protect.

On Happiness Again
The phrase "life is too short" may have been used to justify all manner of horrible deeds but its history of atrocity doesn't change the fact that life really IS too damn short. We have been born dying. Happiness is a rarity. Pleasure is temporal. There is no God to make up for the damaged lives we have by giving us eternal paradise in the afterlife. And the world is choking on the jagged bones of regret. Once you see it with that much clarity, you will realize that the things that give us pleasure and happiness and completeness must be attained at all costs. So beg if you must. Lie if you must. Steal if you must. Kill if you must. But take it. Bloody your fucking knuckles fighting to retain it. You are your own god.

No comments:

Post a Comment