sickness

god, i fucking detest people.

so here's my morning. i'm trying to be alone. away from people. i wake up, start walking up first, and i see joe, which is cool, actually. nice surprise, good way to start off the morning. then, i'm sitting by the bank, and chrispy walks by, so i spend my morning with him, we get ihop, which was nice, i get my money, get smokes, weed, sit and smoke... and this old lady walks up, all friendly, want to sit and smoke, gives me a dollar... but she's a christian. and that's of course all they talk about, and talk like everyone else is wrong, everyone else is just 'haters' who don't get it, and of course chrispy is agreeing with her, and how dare i speak up for anything i think. so i leave them, and come sit in bedlam coffee, and as i'm trying to plug in my computer... this snobby fucking rich cunt talking to this douchebag in a black and white floral shirt... first, she says 'i don't want to own anything anymore', but she's fucking rich, never gonna not be rich, snobby and stuffy as fuck... i felt like pointing at my case and saying 'that's my house'. or something more offensive, like 'have some balls and try living out of this'. then, as i'm trying to plug in my headphones and everything, and shut them the fuck out, she's saying 'oh, i hate loud music, i've never known anyone intelligent who likes loud music'. why do people constantly talk about how hateful i am, when the rich are just as hateful, with less of a reason or legitimate excuse. see, i'm an intellectual supremacist, i honestly think all morons should be sacrificed to mister volcano for scientific research purposes. and i've got sirenia crankin' in my ears right now, trying to start my own metal band, i've got an iq over two hundred, i'm a writer who can actually spell properly, but all this stupid society can do, is hate what's not them. well, i hate you right back. more than you hate me, and with more legitimate of a reason. hate me for all you want, you just fuel me. and i also got a comment on youtube, some idiot saying 'you sound like one of those people who just likes to complain about the world, you're a dickbag, bro'. yeah, and you're still a teenager calling people bro. why don't you grow the fuck up, get some hair on your balls by stuffing some meshuggah in there, both of you judgmental fucks, and fuck your day off. i give a fuck about either of you, seriously, i don't care what you think of me, i'm going forward because you don't have the balls to. you love living in the same day, and i'm sick of you. i'm inventing whatever's beyond you. you can have your fucking society. you can have it. i want no part of it. and you're not getting it. yes, i hate you. i hate you all. with more fire than you. more passion. more enthusiasm, and i've proven that. now machine head is playing. darkness within. rich bitch is still sitting there. cuntwretch. i despise you. i have better words than hate for all of you. detest. loathe.

i'm locked and loaded. the more you hate me, the more fuel and ammunition it gives me to invent whatever's better than you. and i will. there is no train you can stop.

give me more hate.
give me more hate.
give me more hate.

fuel my hatred.
supply my ammunition.
your ignorance is my purpose.
you don't realize a fucking thing.
and you certainly don't know shit about me.
you don't understand what i am.
and i love that.
that's more fuel.
that's more ammunition.
i stand against you like no other.
and you'll never know my distaste for you.
the electromagnetic gravity in my chest.
on so many different points, can i prove you so wrong.
hilariously wrong.
shamefully wrong.
especially on the fact that you don't listen.
you don't know the definition of hypocrisy.
but you sure get angry when you hear it.
because you know it's you.
and you know it's wrong.
but you're too stubborn.
and you fear me.
i don't fear you.
i just plain hate you.
for so many reasons.
you hate my loud music, i think it's because you're weak.
you hate that i hate your world, i think it's because you're an insecure clone,
who fears being unique like me.
you fear standing out.
you need a pack of friends to back you up.
you can't stand alone and make your own choices.
you can't think for yourself.
you have to repeat what others have told you.
you have to have stubborn opinions.
you have to be hateful.
you have to blame others for their hate.
you have to take the focus off yourself.
you have to make me your scapegoat.
is that not a repeated history...
and have we not learned from it.

well i have.
i've heard your excuses long enough.
i've heard the lies, the language, the opinions, the justifications.
yes, i've heard them.

it's every reason i hate you.
you refuse to understand me.
you refuse to try.
you're scared to try.
you're afraid.

and i'll prove it right now.

if you're not afraid to be me...

drop your wallet.
leave your house.
and put some meshuggah in your ears.
and fuckin' like it.
put some machine head in your ears, some otep.
and fuckin' like it.
go to a slayer concert, lamb of god, behemoth.
and try to throw your head off your body.
and fuckin' like it.
i dare you.
you're not done yet, where are you running off to?
get back here, pussy.
now put some weed in your lungs, there you go.
now what are you bitching about?
good, now listen to this album...
it's precious metal.
same metal captain america's shield is made out of.
and wolverine's claws.
testicatanium.
it came out in nineteen ninety seven.
if you can make it through this album, and crave a cigarette afterward...
you've just gotten your first metal stripe.
your first set of horns.
the first hairs on your balls.
it's called 'city' by a band called 'strapping young lad'.
it's a requirement. it's mandatory.
if you want to justify your hatred for me.
if you want to validate yourself.
to humanize yourself.

i've heard your rap.
i've seen your high class.
i've lived your society.

now you step to my side.
that's how this shit works.
i dare you.
be me.
just try.
because i bet you a million dollars, you don't have the balls.

i've been you.
i've seen you.
i've heard you.
have you tried to see my side of things yet?
have you been homeless yet?
have you been rejected yet?
have you been suicidal yet?

no?

well, then you're a pussy. you're a vagina. a pink coward.

and i am better than you.

this is my proof.
debate it all you want.
but you're wrong.
and we all know it.

welcome to me, world.
goodbye cruel world, hello utopia.
go ahead and hate it.
go ahead and sound stupid.
torch it.
bomb it.
nuke it.
burn it.
attack it.
bring your violence.
bring your neanderthals.
bring your disrespect.
bring your corpse to the better party.
and let the mosh pit throw your weak ass back out.
don't let the revolving door hit you in the ass repeatedly on the way out.
the mosh pit can help you out, which way did you come in?
we'll either evolve you, or we'll eat the leftovers.

yeah.
fuck your office posters. your cubicle art.
fuck your job. your nine to five life.
fuck your wallet, your fancy outfit.
fuck the entire society you try desperately to fit into.
fuck every opinion you cling to.
and fuck what you think of me.
that's what scares you most.
that's what freaks you out the most about me.
that i want no part of it.

of you.

i like my loud metal. i prefer it over your bitching and whining.

i like my hatred of society, i prefer it over being a clone.

i like my homelessness, i prefer it over being a slave.

and i prefer my god to yours; my god is the dimethyltriptamine in my head.

and the thumbs i stick up my nose to give my pineal gland orgasms.
shoving knowledge and information up there instead of drugs.

i create brain cells.

knowledge isn't evil.
stupid is evil.
knowledge would know.
duh.

if that offends you, that makes me happy.
if you can't laugh at that, it means you're miserable, not me.
you're in denial, not me.
you're delusional, not me.
you're insane, violent, opinionated, hateful, not me.
you are pointless.

not me.

go ahead and be 'haters' of FREE LOVE.
yeah, that sounds super smart.
and think that knowledge is evil, while you're at it.
and make stupid statements like
'i've never known any intelligent people who like loud music'.
it's not our fault you don't have the balls to pick up a meshuggah record
and find the intellectual value in it. moron.
but it does tell us exactly how stupid, weak, and fearful you are.
and no, we don't want your excuses, try again next year.

do you understand a fucking part of that yet? no? read it again.

read. understand. repeat. read comprehend. repeat.
that's what your pathetic, stupid, miserable life should be.
that's what every shirt should say.

but what do your shirts say?
you know what your shirts say.
they don't say meshuggah.
go on, tell us what your shirt says.

that's right.

see the titanium shimmer on my balls yet?
the high octane fuel burning in my veins?
the evolved arteries pumping more fuel to the brain?
the higher iq that just explained itself to you?
the third eye with sights locked way beyond you?
the train it's driving?

yeah.

go ahead, pussy.
i told you.
it's by strapping young lad.
it's called city.
nineteen ninety seven.
if you can make it through that.
you get your first metal stripes.
you're what's known in the metal world as a scrotbelt.
then you fill your scout bag with a lot more metal.
when you discover brian posehn on your own...
second metal stripes.

oh, but you have to... you know...

fuckin' like it.

pussy.