Like the ancient apostles, I continue to disperse pearls of wisdom through my letters. Eat your heart out, Paul. A song can sing but can a letter? So here's another fart of insight I passed on to the Homeless Guy:
"Living and dying while dancing to Billy Squire"
"One day happy, another looking to slit my wrists"...I understand that. The moron in me says, "If you were normal you would be happy!" But then I remember, is it normal to be happy when you're freaking homeless?? Some people HAVE killed themselves to avoid this predicament. You have shown an astounding strength of character. And trust me, I never hand out a free compliment.
But for me, there is the freedom: to think what I want, to say what I want, to be as I want. My freedom feeds me in a way that jobs kill me. People are jealous of my freedom and try to paint me with their sins, saying that my freedom is optional. Well, if that were true we'd all still be under the feudal system - or as I call it: the "futile" system. The joy of every breath I take is in knowing how many people it pisses off!
When Gandhi was queried on the very real possibility of his being shot, he replied, "Then they'll have my dead body." That's all the fuckers are going to get out of me too. Funny part is, they think that's enough, that it is "victory". But what can you say to someone who has yet to learn their lesson? Life’s a good thing. We keep finding that out every day.
No comments:
Post a Comment