salve

"That's okay; I don't know you," she said?! I've been rejected in so
many ways and for such superficial reasons. But I always turn the other
cheek. But rejection is one thing; an insult is another. We'd just
talked about literature, our hometowns, etc. A beautiful Polish girl
just waved at me saying, "Sean, hey sean, sean!" but that doesn't make
up for it. I'm sick of being insulted. I asked this stupid bitch for
her e-mail address, something easy to ignore. If she'd said no, it
would have been fine. But she said, "I don't know you," which is bitch
for "you're not significant." She approached me, not vica versa. She
saw that I was not as superficially witty as some TV character so she
rejected me for some idiotic, glib jock she'll meet in the future.
Fine, but did she have to insult me?! But the problem is with society;
there is no separing the two sexes; they're as intertwined as a
sweater. Sex and reproduction happen, making the human species one and
so I'll take out my rage on it: Oh Muse, leave me alone. Too many hours
have I wasted teaching words to sing. And its' not for me to justify
the ways of God to men, not I to whom God is invisible, but to who the
depravity of this earthly plane is all to clear. I will not be your pig
and dig for truffles which I cannot enjoy but must present to this race
of yahoos. And I receive only kicks for them, for these people love
only civilization, only for its ability to magnify their beastly
pleasures. No, my eyes are tired, my mind weary and my soul suffers. If
thou would have a modern song, find some glib boy for thy purpose. give
him strong eyes, senses not plagued by sensitivies and a mind tending
toward memorization and not contemplation. He will pen you formulas and
call them poems, thus achieving the commerical success I never could.
On my deathbead, I will feel little different from tonight for I know
what few know; Death is always with us, in every link of our spine, in
every spark of our mind, in every pleasurable moment, in every summer
day. She is the nurse of our every sickness, and the guardian of our
every liberty. We die in every blood cell, we live with every step of
our evolutionary ladder from the iguana to the flightless cormorant to
the sea anenome. We large-headed creatures kill even as we create. But
I must confess; I do not treasure life but rather disdain it. But
still, my braveries are small. I've been the last wild tiger in a
wilderness of steel. I've flown my days to close to the sun. To live in
the modern world, you should have assembly line insides. But I've
served my purpose here; you need a new Icarus. My VISA was stamped by
the state of death; Earth was a mere vacation. But, damn God you,
remember Sean Lawlor Nelson. From this day forth, I vow to do no good.
I will never think a thought except to further myself. And I will never
help the weak, for growing stronger they will bite me. From this day
forth, I will treat world, nation, state, and community as vile
enemies, for so they have treated me. Never again will I bother my mind
about lying, for I live in a society full of Satanic liars. My nature
was forged nobly and I have been a good brother to my fellow man. I
have fed the homeless and helped the poor. But men have treated me with
Satanic cruelty. So heretofore, I am the modern Frankenstein creature.
I will seek my own interests without regard to cultural mores... To me,
guns are the only authorities; and should the guards turn their backs,
if only for a moment, I'll use their rifles to break their necks. I am
the grunge king; I don't believe in anything. I read but don't believe
the grandeur of Greece, Rome or the Renaissance. I don't believe that
the present is okay; you can keep Chingy, Seinfeld, and Achebe. And I
wouldn't pay more than a cup of piss for the space age future; there is
no free lunch and I don't fancy s silicon steak anyhow. I don't believe
in peace on earth or good will toward man. Most people are like fueding
tribes of monkeys and a loaded gun is the best peace-maker. And as for
good-will, give me Hawaii and a Franken-bride and I'll create create
men. Otherwise, I will only destroy them. Music falls harsh on my ears.
The R &; B ruckus on our radio stations is the musical accompaniment
to our society's petty, mindless dance. I used to love Mozart, Wagner,
Bach, etc., but some ape broke into my apartment and the police
wouldn't help. The police, who are there to break every pot-head's
head, are never there to help with real crimes. No, I have only motive
enough and soul to bang my head to "Radio Friendly Unit Shifter" or
"Black Hole Sun." Nor will I strain my eyes or lift my pen for anything
but the most indifferent, misanthropic ideas. And you can call me a
pessimist; But to not hate this society would be to share in its guilt.
I don't make the shit; I just shovel it. To summarize: I will uncork
the champagne when the global warming floods over-sweep our whole
continent, drowning W. as well as every other anally retarded Mr. Ed
and "Housewives" watching thug. You see, anyone who doesn't practice
true morality is a thug and that fits all but a trickling, worthy
minority. Capitalist respectability and pop culture conformity don't
buy anything but death. There is no free lunch.