I've just painfully realized something. It's horrible. This entire thing. (No, not this, but this.) The simple fucking fact that everyone, well almost everyone on this site is some sort of depressed/odd/weird/quirky writer. It's depressing. Once you find out that all the things you've used to label yourself as "ORIGINAL" are actually attributes already possessed by so many others. [Shock and Awe] Seriously. With so many people trying to be so artistic and gifted, is there really any room for me? Or you? I mean. If we're all trying to be unique, aren't we all just being the same. ??? Maybe not. Maybe I'm just getting sick of reading all this unhappy crap. (including my own.) It's like the 'in' thing now is to be either depressed as fuck or taking pills so you won't end up depressed as fuck. Who the hell started this trend? When did it become so fashionable cool to hate everything? I blame television. And books. And magazines with people in black on them. NEVERMIND. I'm just bitching. I'm bored. And bored. And sleepy. And bored. Get it? Got it? Good? I don't know. But why the fuck can't anyone cheer up. Myself included. Maybe it's something in the water. Or the air. Or the little particles of radiation from the computer screens and televisions and cell phones. Or maybe it's the fact that we don't have to do much anymore. Everything's digital or self-cleaning. Books online. Eassays written for you. Reality shows that aren't reality. Magazines that dictate what's HOT and what's NOT. Crazy shit like that. And our brains just get dulled and leaky. We lose our senses. Lose our mental independence. Don't deny it. We all do. Watch. Listen. Believe. Suck-it-all-in. "There are such things as paradise, just not around here." So you see. We can all declare independence from conformity, but when it comes down to it we're all just alike and just as boring. Things aren't special anymore. Nor are they ever-lasting. The orginals are dead and all that's left is bland carbon-copies. There are no more Edgar Allan Poe/s. Or Mozart/s. Or DaVinci/s. Or Shakespeare/s. Or Chopin/s. There will never again be a Muhammad Ali. [Cassius Clay] There will be no other Einstein. They all did it first. And they did it best. Things now are pumped out like factory toys. Bands. Artists. Writers. You name it. Pumped out. branded. and bought by weak minded little children. The more time that passes, the less the future generations seem to use their brains. I don't know. I'm rambling. And bitching. Because if I can't be a writer or an artist, what the hell can I be? I have no other options. I don't think. Maybe? Well I'm done. My thoughts are all running together. And I'm bored. "Don't drink the water...drink the liquor." DFN.