09-22-2010, 11:47 PM
The following writing is contained within a plain looking leather-bound journal that has seen better days. The corner of the latest page has been folded over to mark its place. The pages themselves are rather yellow and stained by a variety of liquids that fill the nostrils with an odd burning sensation that is suffered when quickly flipping through the text.
Surprisingly, for the crudeness of the content, the penmanship is quite exceptional.
(This is a warning that the author of the text , Katelyn Daviault, has no qualms about using rather profane language at times. If you do not enjoy this, or are sensitive to the use of such language, please do not continue reading.)
Surprisingly, for the crudeness of the content, the penmanship is quite exceptional.
(This is a warning that the author of the text , Katelyn Daviault, has no qualms about using rather profane language at times. If you do not enjoy this, or are sensitive to the use of such language, please do not continue reading.)
Spoiler:
Bullshit.
That's my synonym for optimism. The only thing you can ever really count on in this life is yourself and your gun. I learned that from an early age, and anyone that tells you different is a sodding liar. Love? Peace? Friendship? Also crap. Why do people tag along with others? Selfish desires. Other people have this magical little ability to make you feel good about yourself, or make you feel good in general. Clinging to that feeling makes relationships inherently selfish.
Booze? That's something you can rely on. Why? Because they'll never stop making it ‘cause of the hefty profit it brings, and because it makes you forget everything that sucks. And if it doesn't make you forget everything that sucks, it at least makes everything a bit more entertaining.
I've been noticing lately people going on and on about this brotherhood and trust crap. What the hell is all that supposed to do for me? You know what happens when you trust people? They take advantage of your naïve idiocy and leave you somewhere in a ditch to die. That's right. Die. Do you want to die? No? Then stop trusting people. As for brotherhood, I don't know if these people mean it literally, but if I tended to trust anyone who shared some blood with me I'd be developing a whole fecking army. When your Pa is some kind of man slut, that's what happens.
People are pretty disgusting. They hurt each other all the time and then expect two little words to make all the difference. “I'm sorry.†Well you know what? Words are words. I can say whatever the hell I want, but that doesn't make it true. All it makes it is shit coming out of a drunken half apathetic mouth.
This journal? Also garbage. Why? Because it is pointless. I'm not going to ramble in here and come to some sort of conclusion about the kind of person I am or the kind of person I want to be. I'm just going to ramble on and on without any goals. Any optimism this brings me is going to be short lived and ultimately trite. I'm essentially wasting my time right now, and whoever the hell else decides to read this. Their time. Whatever. Who cares? Why do I even care about writing this?
.....
Oh yeah, because I'm right. I think I just wanted to tell that to someone who wouldn't argue with me. People love to argue with me. Wah wah wah. Kate, you're so wrong. Wah wah, you're so angry. Waaaah, you're a b***h. Well, screw you. I'm writing this and there isn't anything you can do to stop me. Goddamn bunch of pansy asses is what you people are. So caught up in your own little fantasy worlds of goodness and love and peacebloom that you can't even stop to realize the truth of the world around you.
The real truth is that everyone sucks. This doesn't exclude me, or you. We all do. Nothing we do matters, really. We're all pathetic failures running around trying to justify our meaningless lives before we die. I don't want to get caught up in this damn system. I don't. All it leaves you with is regret and disappointment.
And that's where the booze comes in.
Cheers, mate.
That's my synonym for optimism. The only thing you can ever really count on in this life is yourself and your gun. I learned that from an early age, and anyone that tells you different is a sodding liar. Love? Peace? Friendship? Also crap. Why do people tag along with others? Selfish desires. Other people have this magical little ability to make you feel good about yourself, or make you feel good in general. Clinging to that feeling makes relationships inherently selfish.
Booze? That's something you can rely on. Why? Because they'll never stop making it ‘cause of the hefty profit it brings, and because it makes you forget everything that sucks. And if it doesn't make you forget everything that sucks, it at least makes everything a bit more entertaining.
I've been noticing lately people going on and on about this brotherhood and trust crap. What the hell is all that supposed to do for me? You know what happens when you trust people? They take advantage of your naïve idiocy and leave you somewhere in a ditch to die. That's right. Die. Do you want to die? No? Then stop trusting people. As for brotherhood, I don't know if these people mean it literally, but if I tended to trust anyone who shared some blood with me I'd be developing a whole fecking army. When your Pa is some kind of man slut, that's what happens.
People are pretty disgusting. They hurt each other all the time and then expect two little words to make all the difference. “I'm sorry.†Well you know what? Words are words. I can say whatever the hell I want, but that doesn't make it true. All it makes it is shit coming out of a drunken half apathetic mouth.
This journal? Also garbage. Why? Because it is pointless. I'm not going to ramble in here and come to some sort of conclusion about the kind of person I am or the kind of person I want to be. I'm just going to ramble on and on without any goals. Any optimism this brings me is going to be short lived and ultimately trite. I'm essentially wasting my time right now, and whoever the hell else decides to read this. Their time. Whatever. Who cares? Why do I even care about writing this?
.....
Oh yeah, because I'm right. I think I just wanted to tell that to someone who wouldn't argue with me. People love to argue with me. Wah wah wah. Kate, you're so wrong. Wah wah, you're so angry. Waaaah, you're a b***h. Well, screw you. I'm writing this and there isn't anything you can do to stop me. Goddamn bunch of pansy asses is what you people are. So caught up in your own little fantasy worlds of goodness and love and peacebloom that you can't even stop to realize the truth of the world around you.
The real truth is that everyone sucks. This doesn't exclude me, or you. We all do. Nothing we do matters, really. We're all pathetic failures running around trying to justify our meaningless lives before we die. I don't want to get caught up in this damn system. I don't. All it leaves you with is regret and disappointment.
And that's where the booze comes in.
Cheers, mate.