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“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes “Awww!”

 

idiot wisdom #2

To avoid washing dishes, just order pizza.

The Sunflowers Misery

You can never feel too good.

Once you feel too good.

You’ve arrived.

Mission accomplished.

If you ever find yourself in that position.

Abort mission immediately and find something

that will put you back into deep deep misery again.

Right away! Don’t waste time with satisfaction or

appreciation. Don’t stop and look at the beauty.

Go back to your misery. Back to your constant

slavery to become better than anybody else.

Because you are better.

Go back there, because that’s where home is.

Right?

Do it. Do it now!

Make sure not to waste any time living in arteficially perfect bliss.

Because…

We are happiest

being miserable and demanding.

We are happiest making the impossible possible

and thinking it’s still not enough.

That’s the human spirit,

Unlimited greed for more.

We couldn’t live in a status quo.

We couldn’t live in a perfect world.

Let’s make it happen.

Misery.

7 billion thumbs up.

(this advice is best before:

when the sun explodes and nothing will be left)

idiot wisdom #1

When everyday is the same, become a bum.

Of course you are.

A writer.

That’s what you are.

You want  to earn a living saying what’s on your mind.

You don’t want to work hard.

You don’t want to be exhausted.

You want to be famous.

Famous for telling whatever crazy thing comes to your mind.

You want people to adore you.

You want to feel loved.

Of course you are a writer.

Of course you are.

You want to write to enlighten people with things they don’t know.

You want to make people notice things they miss.

You want to make people fall in love with you.

You want to be as honest as it can get.

Sometimes you’re too honest.

So honest – people actually feel sad for you.

But you want that.

For some reason.

You don’t know why but it makes you feel special.

Cos you’re a writer.

And that’s what you are.

A writer.

Like everyone else on the planet.

You write.

Like everyone else.

You punch something into that piece of paper.

You think you’re great and the best there ever was.

But you’re not.

Of course.

Because you are a writer.

Like me.

I’m a writer.

I just push buttons.

It’s just words.

Letters.

Ink.

Pixels.

Binary.

Atoms.

Really nothing.

It’s just me.

The universe as I explore it.

I’m a writer.

I’m a writer.

Yes, of course I am.

And there’s no beauty in it.

Writing is a fertilizer.

It makes thoughts grow.

Nothing more, nothing less.

I’m not a writer.

I am dung.

That’s You!

And then again, everyone’s life matters.

There’s nothing undone.

There’s no one quite like you.

You are you.

No one has ever been you before.

And yet you want to be someone else.

Fuck you.

Listen to me asshole.

This is your life.

It’s exactly what you want.

It’s exactly as fucked up as it needs to be.

Otherwise.

You wouldn’t be you.

You’d be famous.

You’d be poor.

You’d be rich.

You’d be stupid.

You’d be smart.

You’d be Jesus.

You’d be God.

You’d be a chinese fisherman on the Guilin river.

You’d be all of them.

But you’re not.

You are you.

Now go live that life.

The greatest you’ve ever been given.

Your Life.

Fuck you!

“You’re happiest, when drunk”

“It’s lots of money that will make you feel good, not your noble thoughts.”

“It’s better to have lived a life with nothing but good will, than to have actually changed the world.””

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