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Meditative analysis of the Fallibility of Humanity, Act: III
Where I reinforce my apparent apathy with irreverent, unexplained sarcasm, a maze of near-unintelligible adverbs and adjectives, and a plethora of irrelevance, animosity, and complete disregard for any readers' sanity, self-esteem, or will to live.
Sometimes I just like to hear myself talk
because it helps drown out all the cacophony that makes it impossible to hear myself think.

Oh, and I also don't give a crap about you and yours, due to the fact that I'm too busy attempting to process undigestable sh*t via my friggin' nervous system.

Also I tend not to give a frack about speaking, talking, social anything, and/or any events occurring outside the nightmares eating away at my soul.

Say, for example, you were fighting off a rabid raccoon currently in the process of eating your arm. Would you in any way be more inclined to sit down and have a heart-to-heart with someone you had already deemed annoying to begin with?

Now, I won't feed you to the raccoon. That would only make it all worse. Providing I still held even an ounce of sanity.

In like manner, if you interpreted my difficulties as a matter of preference and consequently began sharing your own live rabid creatures, odds are that something very very, horribly wrong is about to happen. And not to me. That is already happening to me. Call it a situation wherein any sanity is rendered void by way of inadvertent clusterf*ck.

If you think I'm offering advice, or sharing so you can understand me (whilst being nothing like me), then you're effectively begging to get infected with rabies.

The only advice I might give is that which a yellow sign adjacent to a dilapidated nuclear plant might be attempting to convey.

It's an expression. I need means of expression. And considering the extent of injury, you could say that there's a certain urgency to that need for expression.

Oh, and quit eating my tennis shoes. WTF kind of idiot does that? Am I missing something here or do I possess something y'all are lacking?

You're killing me, I'm not kidding. Mass mob mentality ate my sense of funny, you guys. And my funny bone, which is a very weird thing to do, honestly.

But still, NOT a psychopath. I empathize, sympathize, and tell you to f*ck off because I CAN give a f*ck, thank you very much. Maybe I'm saying this solely for my own benefit. Maybe the men in white coats aren't just loitering outside for a cigarette break.

Sarcasm is a proven means of expressing anger or antagonism, on all levels. Even in neutralized forms.

If it's radioactive, it WILL decay, and take everything with it. That's what it's for. burning_eyes

Rinn Lothron
Community Member
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