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I don’t know what it means, but I feel the need to point out all weird things that relate to 2012.

Who do you believe?

Yourself? That’s bullshit.

What do you know that I don’t know? So I’m going to make things simple.

A truck full of consciousness is driving down the highway and it gets hijacked by a devious set of brains looking for cheap thrills. Turns out the brains had been soaking themselves in formaldehyde all day so their driving skills were a little below par. The truck crashes into a tree and the brains get thrown into the back of the truck. Lights and explosions and shit started going off all over the place as some monkeys dropped the fuck out of the tree. The monkeys started dancing with the brains and turned that shit into a dance club. Eventually the monkeys got tired and the brains, sensing weakness ate the each of those motherfucking monkeys in one bite. Then the truck caught on motherfucking FIRE! and those brains burned and burned and burned until there was nothing left. And that is how humans lost their cosmic car keys.

How do I know this?

Because I was there asshole, sad story right?

So don’t give me any of your shit about what you think you know because I know better then that.

I was there. So fuck off.

There is a voice in my head, very familiar, that will wait for the right moment and then say the one thing that could make me feel possibly worse than I already do. It is the voice that reminds me about all the guys my girlfriend has hooked up with before me and how uncomfortable I am with that, it is the voice that brings up how upset I am about my living situation, and it is the voice that looks for ways to give me that completely and sickeningly satisfying rush of negative emotion. It makes me want to wallow in sadness, anger, and frustration. That wallowing is so familiar, so comfortable to me, that unless I recognize it and halt the process, it will be more immediately satisfying than trying to feel good in any way.

This voice is the voice of dirt, disgust, and blackness. It comes out of mounds of cigarette butts and empty bottles and cans, shit, piss, and vomit, interpersonal conflict, misogyny, violence, delusion, and all sickness and darkness. It is like a black hole that I’m constantly being sucked into, a little at a time, and sometimes I pull myself away from it and feel better, but that shit is a vacuum and unless I keep fighting it, I’ll eventually get sucked in all the way.

This is my hell. Sometimes. And other times it is a distant and bleak reality, a possibility that has been explored and somewhat understood, and I choose not to be enveloped.

My question is, What is that? Where does it come from? Why is it there? What is it about existence, or my existence, that necessarily includes a self destructive, negative tract or aspect?

I guess I already know the answer. But then I think that the answer will come to me after further contemplation. And finally I think, this is just part of life. Awareness of one’s emotional zero point and all that it consists of, the worst thing imaginable. In that for me this thing is imaginable, I imagine it, and am therefore conscious of it. BUT WHERE THE FUCK DOES IT COME FROM?