Epiphany countless (warning, spoiler alert)

I don't know what number epiphany this is...

It's a realisation of something profound and yet I know that I'm still missing the big picture.

You know, I don't think there's even a fine line between genius and madness as it were anymore. I think that the more you know, the madder you become until you aren't smart anymore. Like, one of my biggest fears is becoming stupid and like, loosing all the knowledge that I've gained...but I've already started to decline. I'm really not that smart anymore. Which is really fucking depressing.

Anyways...the epiphany.

Well, it's kind of difficult to explain. It's like I know it but I can't quite put my finger on it enough to put into words.

So I watched The day the earth stood still with mother this evening yeah and at first I was like yeah it was a good film but the ending was a bit shit.

But the more I think about it, the more I realise that it was complete and utter fucking bollocks.

So basically what happens is this alien comes to earth to see whether the human race can be saved and at first decides that they can't and the aliens are gonna purge the earth of humanity and then the main woman character persuades him not to because she loves her step son so much.

The alien, played by Keanu Reeves, says "If you kill this planet, you'll die too. But if the human race die, the planet will survive." Basically he's there to save the planet because it's only one of a few planets capable of sustaining complex life forms and the human race aren't worth letting the planet die.

Well, if I was the woman, I would have told him to go for it.

There is no way in hell that the actions of one single woman and her step son would have counteracted all the knowledge he had of all the evil in the human race.

All the wars and murder and hate and lies and all that fucking shit cannot be wiped clean simply because a woman loves her step son.

Love doesn't stop wars, it doesn't stop rape or murder or theft or any of that shit.

So my epiphany was that the film didn't take it far enough. What if that's what's actually supposed to happen?

We are actually a virus on this planet, a disease, a plague, an infestation.

What if we are actually supposed to be wiped out???

I know there are some bloody good people in the world and I know there are some wonderful things. But as Sweeney Todd says in same titled musical

"Because the lives of the wicked should be made brief
for the rest of us death will be a relief"

I mean, what the fuck do they think is gonna happen? They're gonna keep fucking each other over and fucking up the planet and it's all just gonna work out fine?

I don't think so.

I've said it time and time again, people really need to start paying attention. I mean, some people are obviously picking up on it because there are enough films supporting it, but why the fuck isn't anyone acting on it?

I get that there are charities like the red and blue cross and all that, but it's not enough.

The people who care are a minority and so long as they remain a minority, the human race WILL self-destruct. It is humanity's destiny I think.

I'm praying that the planet is strong enough to survive the blast.

But considering how stupid and fate-tempting scientists are, I'm not so sure it would.

The sad thing is, I'm dead certain that the people who care will ALWAYS be a minority.

"No one lifts a finger because
it's just not in our culture
our culture is carrion
and we're all vultures"
Love ire and song, Frank Turner

It makes me so fucking mad.

I'm not sure what I'm trying to explain. Sometimes I feel like I'm so close to figuring everything out. I'm not sure what that 'everything' is, whether it's the meaning of life or just my meaning, I don't know. But sometimes I feel like I am on the verge of the most ground breaking epiphany in history.

But somehow I always seem to fall short of the 'KERCHING!' Lightbulb.

It's so frustrating.

I don't wanna go to college tomorrow. Today was horrible. I kept losing my breath. Like, I'd flush all hot and cold and then I wouldn't be able to catch my breath and my chest would go all tight and I got light headed and dizzy and I just wanted to cry. It was awful.

I hate that feeling. I use to get it at school all the time.

I don't know when mother will get it into her head that I can't function around people. I just can't do it. I can go a few weeks, maybe a few months, but then I just fall to pieces all over again.

I can't take falling apart any more. Every time I rebuild myself, I just break again. It's like piecing a china cup back together and lifting it up wihout gluing the shards in place. And every time I do it, the pieces break into smaller bits. I'm going to end up nothing but a pile of dust if I keep doing this. And I don't want to be dust.

I know people don't believe me. I'm not that stupid yet. I know people think I'm making everything up to get attention.
I don't give a shit. I'm telling the truth.

I think I may be ambivelant (splchk?)

It's like it's been bred into our consciousness as a race. First we fight amongst ourselves for food and shelter. Then we declare war on other 'peoples'.

And after so many wars, it's a part of our nature, so we have it encoded in us to declare war on either everyone else, or ourselves. Every single one of us, without signing any dotted lines, are fighting a war.

Whether it's an inner war, a war against particular groups of people, or actual like over in afghanistan war, we're all soldiers of one sort or another.

It's very sad.

And frankly it's pathetic.

It's like humans no longer have the capacity inside themselves to live without some sort of fucking conflict.

Like, the human race itself is the disequilibrium of this planet.

And for equilibrium to be restored, you'd have to remove the disequilibrium; you'd have to remove the human race.

I'm writing a book if anyone cares. I don't know what it's about exactly, I guess you could say it's kind of like my memoirs...or maybe philosophy. I don't know. But it's a book. I doubt it'll ever get published, but I like writing.

Wriing makes me feel better and I would so rather stay at home and write books for a living that try and fake my way through the world.

And one day, I'm gonna prove that what I say about myself is true, that I wasn't just making it up, and sooner or later, people will take my word for it that it's just better I stay in a safe place writing books.

I was not meant for this society. I don't think I'm even human. I'm like some sort of sub species that the planet gave birth to through mother...I dunno why. Maybe I'm some sort of viral hybrid type thing. Whatever I am...I want nothing to do with humanity. I despise humanity with a passion. In fact, despising the human race is probably my biggest passion right now, closely followed by despising myself.

I'm sure that someone who happens to stumble upon this blog will be thinking, "you're such a fucking retard, Maggot, your pathetic whining is no more than a stupid attempt to get attention. Get over yourself and go die."

I'd love to oblige.

I'm sure I've said this before, I'll say it again for the visually impaired. (No offence to those who are actually visually impaired.)

I couldn't give a flying fuck what any of you think of me.

I'm writing this blog for me. End of. I'm writing this blog because I have to get this shit out somewhere and this is the coolest place I've found to do it in, bar my journals.

There's something amazingly theraputic to typing furiously on a blog to let arrange all the shit in your head into some semblence of order. It doesn't usually stay in that order but hey, every little helps.