Deep Inside

Deep inside I want to scream at the top of my lungs, please leave me the F#ck alone! I am not your average, pre-defined, pre-sorted, ultra-emotional metro sexual. I don’t need a brand and I don’t need your pre-packaged bull-shit about, what life is and what a man should do. I would borrow dough from my girl and never return it.

I want to be free of all the filth that society piles up on an individual. I want to be free off peer pressure, social pressure, family pressure and even mA blood pressure if I could help it. I would bribe my ass, if it would take it, to fart when I want to. I am just an average Joe, who wouldn’t mind drinking chai from his friends’ tea-saucer or sharing a cigarette with him. I am not pseudo philosophical but, I do have serious questions about life and death.

I am not suicidal. Yet, I want to see my brain splattered over a meter gauge track…but, put the idea behind me because, something about unclean surroundings turns me off, even more than death turns me on. I would like to die in a highly sterile environment. Nope, not the hospital…Did you ever wonder that going there can actually make you sick because of all the undead pathogens still floating around in the air?

Ah! Yes…Airplanes, them machines seem to be sterile. But, on after-thought 500 sweating pigs (read, humans) perspiring, respiring in them closed quarters is hardly sterile. How about the clean sparkling waters of a waterfall? Huh! Hmm…Interesting. Coming to think of it that does not look like such a bad place to die, is it? But, who knows who took a casual dump in the stream a 100miles away 3hrs 15min ago and water is just moving at 30mph until 100feet from the falls… and the waterfall is just 300feet high? And that weird alienation lands on me halfway down? I would be turned off (I would rather die, if I was like the Yamuna) and would not want to die then…Argghh…no, I don’t like that idea.

Let’s see… what about crashing my car into a ravine…that way I don’t have to worry about the surroundings until I die and who cares how bad my guts smell once I am dead. As they say…once you dead! You ain’t coming back. But cars are built to last…and what if I just break a few bones and one of them is jutting out of the side from under my right thigh and a few inches from my already bloodied face? Gory and unclean and also, I don’t own a car or even a motorcycle for that matter…Holy Cr@p! There is no place on this earth where I would like to die.

Now, I am worried…So, much for freestyle thinking. Fuck you George Carlin, and it’s time for me to sleep.


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