I go from hot to cold
poor to rich
One minute people are walking kilometres to get water, women walking with buckets full on their heads
A man of twenty-eight with four wives, and kid with each, telling me he eats Zebu (like a cow) and rice every night, just that
And kids so skinny it makes you sick
To Chanel, Gucci, and Lacoste stores in the airport
jewellery and clothes and bags and belts and $10,000 champagne and more and more and more
fat asses and fatter guts
On the plane this family disgraces humanity (at least in that moment, trying not to judge, but saying it as I think it)
The little girl, “I’m gonna cry if I don’t sit where I want, mama, I’m gonna cry if I sit here…”
she cried on demand
The son about to lose it too. “This is all your stupid fault baby crier, stupid baby.”
Father and mother soft like jello
Son to his father (or stepfather), “it’s your ugly daughters fault, she ruined the whole plan.” He was probably a second away of crying himself
spoiled and poisoned
shopping bags by their feets
parents being the reflection of their children
thus automatically disliking them and losing more respect than any disrespect can go (though they did kiss them at the end of the flight)
I suppose people just have their moments
But honestly…
We have become
or maybe always were
disgusting
no awareness outside of ourselves
no self-respect
just empty, lifeless pits
of confused scared children
hiding behind stuff
and eating anything that would cover it up
I’m about to snap on this flight
where’s the air Marshall
were packed like sardines
though I would prefer the sardines
and fed comfort till we no longer know
what reality is
coughing
sneezing
into the hand
wiping their asses without toilet paper
Is it just me?
I irk to think (or know) it is…….
or at least not many
at least not openly
my low tolerance brings raging heat to every extremity
my expectations (viewed as high, though everyone else’s, I honestly and deeply feel, is just too low) give no room to live with others
I have no room to live
This ‘taking’ people do
makes me want to murder
I don’t think I’m crazy
I know I am
But what people are afraid to understand is that that doesn’t make me wrong
just means I have to adapt to survive
to feel peace
they say love is the only truth
I say that sometimes too
but people don’t live in this world
love is the truth
there are so many kinds of it you may not at first recognize
and everything is a reflection of self
so all the depressed and lonely and angry artists and people are just angry at themselves?
Aren’t most geniuses depressed and angry?
genius breeds isolation
genius is normally right
But it’s like I said
in order to feel peace you have to adapt
build some kind of tolerance to the bullshit
because no matter how much you’re right
it’s not worth killing yourself over
most of the time
WritingbyJordan 