Notes From a Cynical Bitch

Life is one big headache. Seriously. All it does is give me pain. And, it's not just my pathetic existence that bothers me. It's the pathetic existence of everyone else.

Why? Why, why, why, why, why? Why are we here? What could we possibly accomplish in this little span of time we call our "life"?

Certainly we're not here for something as glorious as saving the lovely princess from the ruthless dragon. That's just a load of bull. These days, the "princess" has several eating disorders, and the "knight in shining armor" is the dragon.

Sure, there are a few people with honorable intentions, and they really do try to hold us together. But, it seems to me, that all they manage to do is screw ourselves over one more time.

Honestly. I look at where today's society is heading and I want to cry. I look to see what's in store for us and . . . I don't want to be there. I honestly don't want to be there. I would rather die than go where we're headed. And, some days, I seriously consider that option.

There was a point in time when I wanted to do something about it. I wanted to change the world. I wanted to save our souls. But, I've come to realize that I am just one person among millions. And we're all going to pot. There's nothing I can do about it and I need to stop making myself sick over thinking about it.

"I love life!" some people shout with glee.

Oh, yea. Me too. If by "life" you mean, "living in a stinking pit, up to your armpits in garbage, surrounded by people who can't tell the difference between a tree and a barrel of toxic waste".

"I've got so much to live for!"

Well, so do I, if sitting around, waiting for the eventual apocalypse that was supposed to come in 1999 counts as something to live for.

"Don't give up hope!"

Oh, don't worry. I haven't. I still have hope that this will all be over soon.

If the sun doesn't burn a hole through the ozone layer and fry us all to a crisp, I'm sure we'll save it the trouble by blowing ourselves up.

When people tell me that our generation is made up of the leaders of tomorrow, I laugh and I laugh and I laugh. The only thing that makes me stop laughing is when I start to think about how bad the next generation is going to be.

We are so screwed.

Ah, well . . . At least we have money. Yes, money. You can sell your house, you can sell your car, and you can sell your soul. However, these days, you'd get a fair price for your mother . . . If you're willing to sell her.

Yes, folks! This is the new age! Useless crap you will buy, and find happiness, you shall.

Yes, master!

Well, it seems that we have no choice but to keep on living this giant headache. Until that apocalypse happens, we really have no choice.

So, in the mean time, we'll keep on searching for that giant dose of pain-killers that will stop this migraine we call "life".

Moroni of the Mount of Ro