This is a big, hearty fuck you to the world. Thanks for tuning in.
The mindfuck never ends. How can it be that the that every other kid my age has the same angst as me, leading me into becoming angstier for not being different enough?
Six hundred pages and nothing learned. Damn Ayn Rand. Damn the Altruists, damn the priests, damn the egoists, damn the stars. The world is perfect with true altruism, the world is perfect with true egoism. Which is truly the most perfect? Are they even any different?
My screaming whispers betray my soul. I interrupt, I walk away with nary a thought. I lack the maturity for true conversation and the wit to sustain my thoughts. Talk to me! I am quite loud for a fucking corpse.
My muses laugh from a safe distance. Inspiration, where art thou? Duende, why have you stopped dancing? Would I recognize you, or will I follow the paths of familiarity to foregone conclusions? Don't you fucking dare touch me, for I know not what I'll do. I'm not responsible for my actions. Please don't feed the animal.
Music is salt on my wounds. And a light unto my path. Amen, praise Allah, have a nice day. Pianos harbor demons and Satan my albums. Curse it all to Hell. Curse it up to purgatory and back down to Hell.
I'm a weapon for the highest bidder. My memory holds me back. I'll live fast, die young, and leave a really pitiful corpse. Come back, spit on me, curse the very ground I render unclean.
I'm unfit to carry the sword of righteousness and the banner of truth. I can't believe in what I want to believe in and my doctrine is shattered as I intellectually bludgeon my faith. My left hand knows not what the right is doing and forgive me, Lord, for I know not what I am doing.
I am a man. Then why am I so afraid of cowardice? Why don't I have the balls to face my fears, the guts to stand up for truth? I'm too weak for a destroyer and too blind for a hunter and too stupid for a king.
Submitting to self-deprecation. It is said the submissive holds true power over the dominant. Then why don't I feel this power? Why am I left contemplating why I'm living while the jeering and the mockery continue? Why must my ideologies be questioned by those who are simultaneously more and less mature, more and less intelligent? Your I.Q. of 160 doesn't scare me, and neither does your age, and neither does your strength.
Sticks and stones may break my bones. And I say, bring it on. I need to be brought up to the average. I've been sub-par all my life. My dream world holds me back like gravity to Earth. The dreams that are meant to liberate hold me back from the dreams that are meant to liberate.
Kill me and I'll shine. Beat the fucking shit out of me. The pain is numb and the numb is pain. I bleed without bleeding and my mind wishes naught but respite. The war never ends. The war between myself and myself eclipses my thoughts, my thoughts shatter my ego, the ego my thoughts are meant to sustain.
Sleep comes and doesn't. My spiritual insomnia is only a little less scary than my physical slumber perpetuity. Meditation tortures my demons and wakes them from their sleep, incense further spurs them forward. Music brings back the numb that keeps away the sleep I so direly need.
The end is near. And my fanaticism ever stronger, my paranoia urging me forward. My future yields to my myopia, and the moon is ever brighter in the periphery.
Kill this, that's right. Are you afraid of paper? This is my manifesto. The avalanche is coming and you're swept up in the maelstrom. Are you afraid of paper? It's just a papercut. Are you afraid of paper? This is my watchtower and I see you.
Pseudo Intellectual says a manifesto is a tricky sort of thing to pull off for a post-futurist. we can't ever be certain of anything, which leaves our bold rhetoric a bit deflated.
Pseudo Intellectual says now that's the kind of dillution the term has come to enjoy I'm talking about! If you don't want me to judge it as a manifesto, don't call it one 8)
isogolem says Okay... Here's my feedback: You call it "Manifesto", but... well, it's not one. It's a rant, and as such it's pretty good - but it's disjointed, too. It doesn't really go anywhere. The Cluetrain Manifesto is a manifesto and it goes somewhere. See? I'm not trying to piss you off, it's just my take on it. Oh, aside - "It is said the submissive holds true power over the dominant." - This is true only in situations where the rules have been agreed to (in scene). In the world at large all that can be said is the submissive is at least partly responsible for what is done to them: they have/had a choice between submitting and something else (even if the alternative was death they had a choice) and their choice was to submit.