Monday, October 4, 2010

NIGHT TIME- SYMPATHIZE.


I thought I would write this post whilst under the influence of some strong cold and flu tablets.
I took them at 8pm, and right now my head feels like a basketball that has been felt up too many times by Kobe Bryant, but my leg is twitching.

Its so weird. Im listening to Grum and feeling slightly high.

But I was ranting earlier to my dad about how that whole Australia's next top model fiasco was just another fucking desensitizing scam to manipulate the minds of the masses in order to distract them from something bigger happening in the world.

I mean, in his day, he would not have thought twice about whether or not it could have been a publicity stunt. Is it the matter of they got away with alot more shady shit back then, or have we become a giant race of jokesters who like to disillusion and trick each other into submission?

Its all such a fucking crock of shit.
Im sick of it, second guessing everything...
We are all so fucked up by our surroundings no wonder it is so hard to differentiate what is real or not?

Am I in love?
Who am I?
Can I trust this person?
Do they really consider me a friend?
What DO I want for lunch?

Has the world we have grown up in made us constant questioners, on a voyage of discovery, or turned us into condensed versions of Woody Allen filled with neurotic air pulsating from our nostrils with every breath we exhale?

Im even asking about questions with a question.

It should not be that hard to trust and see the real from the fake, but I guess it fucking is, isnt it?

The hidden agenda (as Craig David so eloquently puts it) is rife and rampaging the streets like a Godzilla in a V neck. Fuck your agenda, the sad fact is, is that I probably dont really care that much about you anyway.

I say that while wearing a nightie with a kitten on it and the words "SUPER CUTE!" emblazoned on it.

I guess I can put it down to yesterday/last night where I KNEW I was in the company of people who I could trust to be genuine. They really didnt have a choice, because once the lights and the music began, shit just turned primal, especially in Missy Elliott and Groove Armada.

I guess I can rest assured in the moments I had yesterday, that sometimes (even if not all the time) people can have moments in which they are genuine and endeavour to express who they really are without some sort of barrier making them spit out false words and act in a way so pretentious that it actually makes the door bitch at Piano Room take a second look at the way they are acting.

I know this is the second post that I have addressed the term FAKE even though I tried not to use it and TRICK you bastards into believing that I havent already touched on this, but I have. Sorry.

seeya.

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