scrambled transmissions from planet cod:Genuinely Happy

[weedguru_animal]

Scrambled transmissions from Planet Cod:part 2

There used to be an order to things. A savage line that could be drawn from town to town, country, tribe to tribe.

Fuck this civility.
Fuck this Honesty.

There is nothing to be gained from bearing my heart to a heartless world.
There is nothing to be gained from meaning what I say.

I can only hope that the obvious futility, even ignorance, of my written record of being, is preserved for future generations which know Right from Wrong…Future generations which can hold up to the light, my work, examine as contemporary Man examines an ancient script of papyrus, and they can say…He Tried, He Persevered, He refused to give in…And He Was Crushed.

It’s a dog eat dog world and I’m a sick fucking puppy whose meek barks are drowned out by a symphony of dishonour, by calculating coldness held in the highest rapture by the Mob…

How I long for apocalypse…Destruction of all they have created, all their plastic, inorganic fakeness….This world is governed by nothing but chaotic brutality.

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We are all connected.
We are all of one flesh,
One heart,
One soul….

I see it,
I know it,
But I can’t feel it…

Because most people,
Are so closed,
To the Outside.

Covered in character clothes,
Which are chopped and changed,
According to Company,
And Situation.

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YOU WILL BE ASSESSED TO MAKE SURE YOU ARE GENUINELY HAPPY.

GENUINELY HAPPY. What the fuck is that?

They tell me: My conversation is inappropriate….

I’m sorry for being human????
No I am not.

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I curse the luck that has brought me under the loving embrace of so many wonderful people who I turn to in times of need, in times of desperation, screaming HELP ME, PLEASE….

They are responsible, on countless occasions, for soothing my puppy dog heart when it has been wounded. Were it not for them…I would have sunk, or grown stronger, more resilient, more closed off…But alas…they have served to prolong THE PROBLEM.

My mother. She is different. Her love is deep but she isn’t one to mollycoddle, or hold back on hard words that need saying...

I remember last Summer…whilst walking along a street I had last visited with a doting fiancée by my side. The emotional remnants of just being in the same place, but this time without Her, cut at me like a chainsaw on a naked, proud but utterly defenseless Oak Tree…Tears bursting free, the body’s desperate attempt to rid the spirit of it’s pain…Mum’s reaction was:
‘stop crying. You are being pathetic’
I needed that, more of that, from others, during my other times of Horror.

A baby cries for attention, and though I was crying not for attention, but out of instinct, soothing words were akin to giving the baby attention NOT solving the problem.

GROW UP. HIDE YOUR HEART. TELL ONLY BEAUTFUL LIES. AND YOU WILL SUCCEED.

But succeed in what? as What?

I have never wanted that kind of SUCCESS…
I don’t deal in the currency of Beautiful Lies.
That is the currency of Swine.

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