My father beckoned for me from the back of our trailer home. He shouted. “Get. Back. Here!” repeatedly. I wasn’t sure what he wanted or needed. It sounded desperate though. I finished whatever i was doing at the time to quickly assist him. Then, i ran back to his room and he wasn’t there. i said, “Dad, Where are you?” he replied,”I’m in the bathroom.” i passed the bathroom door on my way into his room. Did i miss him? Could he be hurt? i turned the corner running into the bathroom. It was there that i discovered my father completely nude and sitting in the bathtub high surrounded by candles. He asked, “What do you want to eat?”. I replied, “Dad, your ass naked.” He said, “Well. I thought you would get back here quicker all the bubbles popped. So. What do you want for dinner?” We ate lucky man’s pizza and wings that night. and. i saw my dad’s dick.
humanity does not exist for the immortals, for the gods, for the earth, for the universe. humanity exists for itself. this is not an existential thought about the purpose and meaning of life and existence. it’s a rash theory on humanity’s repetitive nature and proclivity toward destructive isolation. it’s a warning. it’s a soft conclusion. it is as it is.
after thousands of years, one would imagine an evolved species enlightened by time and focused on good. however, we continue to take advantage and reach for goals that merely serve to fill our own desires. we serve to serve ourselves. we no longer even exist within the circle of life on this planet. we create our own circles of life perversely invading and pervasively damaging the original circle. in fact, i doubt there’s any circle that survives with humanity as a link. at this point, humanity should procreate out. we should just stop and allow this generation to be the final generation. we could cure this whole problem. we are the disease. doomed. we are debilitating this planet and potentially more.
there’s not one good thing we’ve brought to the universe, to the world, to anything other than ourselves. it’s preposterous. it’s pathetic how humanity manages innovative and mind boggling demonstrations of destruction. we nail that. there’s endless examples of our destructive nature. but. when do we get good? what do we give back? art? beautiful machines? that may be true. however, those objects of unnecessary frivolity mostly exist to serve us. we can’t even manage our own custom made circle of life. we can’t agree. we fight. we can’t govern. we judge other people on how we want them to live. we create artificial food genetically engineered out of our gluttony. we create artificial goods to supplement the artificial needs. then. we chase artificial goals, like currency, to have it all.
this is the best case example of humanity. we develop intergalactic space travel. hopefully we leave earth well enough to survive on her own for a number of centuries. humanity splinters off into two groups. the “good” & the “bad”. the ugly truth is that the “bad” would tear itself apart. then they would seek out the “good” because even the universe becomes a small place when you’ve run out of natures to destroy. and. disease loves to survive. so. the “bad” faction would seek out the “good” faction with every intent to survive. that doubtfully means coexist. and. at best, we are right back where we started, like on earth, with more humans, more species, and more planets at risk. unless we discover a better manner in which to exist; humanity will continue to exist simply to exist.
i wish the post office would’ve just sent my letter. then, i wouldn’t have to feel this way.
i signed up for ok cupid, ate packing peanuts, and watched perks of being a wallflower on the same day. as pathetic as all that sounds, it was actually quite endearing. the movie version of perks stood on its own merit. and. on ok cupid, i answered this question “As far as you’re concerned, how long will it take before you have sex?” with this answer “i suppose in some backwater incestual catholic hillbilly countryside this question holds some importance. but. the notions of sex and virginity are only over shadowed in perversity by the people who actually make them important.” i felt very accomplished on that day. plus. the packing peanuts were biodegradable corn packaging; so, i joined a dating service and ate packing peanuts and lived to tell about it.
i shopped around barnes & noble looking for dollhouse seasons 1 & 2. i just finished watching firefly by myself and needed another activity to fill my time. suddenly, or not, i found myself among the board games. i browsed the entire section. there was this two player laser game called khet. it sounded fun. pandemic. settlers of catan. qwirkle. mario themed yahtzee. all the old favorites and interesting new favorites caught my attention. suddenly, or not, i found myself holding a game called furt. it had some talking volcano, vibrant colors, dice, cards, a long winding game board. furt even had a chainsaw beaver game piece but despite all that it got me bummed. it got me bummed because i thought, who could i play all these awesome games with? i could buy apps and play a few of these choice games. but. i wanted to feel that heat. that dance. that raw emotional connection of loss as you search for a win in your opponents’ eyes. i wanted to play a real game with somebody. like, furt. i wanted to play furt with somebody**. then i imagined myself saying, “who furted?” as a joke with all my friends. it would create an uproar. they would laugh and laugh. memories and memories. my friends would celebrate my charisma and heroism. they would loft me over their shoulders while shouting my praises for being their leader just a regular old modern man with the comical sensibility of a genius man child. but. then suddenly, or not, i realized i have no one to furt with me. it’s just me. that’s a bummer. but. i still got to use the joke in my head to make all my “head friends” envy my comedy prowess and praise my excellence at being. so. that’s cool..
**replace the word dance with the word furt and this explains how i truly deeply felt. madly. something.
