Flaming Truths.

I am so uninterested in it all.

No I do not think I am above any of it. I am simply too exhausted by all of it to entertain any of it. I have spent time “outside” (as the kids say), inside, on the internet and off of it; all I can say is cut the fucking mics. Seriously.

Now don’t get me wrong, I love hanging out with who I love hanging out with. And I love talking to people and learning about them. Even strangers. But c’mon, has the world lost it’s fucking mind? I mean look around. It’s Election Year, in case any of you fucking neanderthals were unaware. And if you’re unaware, that means you don’t know the rock and fucking impossible spot we are in.

Oh no honey, I don’t do spoilers. Go use your Google machine and get yourself caught up.

The internet is actually fucking terrifying (and believe me, I’ve seen some shit.) There is literally porn everywhere and the majority is falling for it. Sex has us in a fucking chokehold (and I use “us” VERY lightly). In all my years, I have never been so exposed to so much straight up vulgar bullshit. Why can’t I get on twitter, read my horoscope and argue with it in my head without seeing an unsolicited dick, vagina, both, and/or anything else someone wants to bring to the fold? There’s an audience everything, but I don’t want it. The sex bots on Instagram? Why is this a thing? Who the FUCK replaced courting with sending nudes? When did sex become the number one thing on everyone’s bingo card to talk about at the function? Needless to say, auntie is fucking tired. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a huge advocate for sexuality; fuck who you want, how you want, where you want, when you want. (But you better have fucking consent, and for the love all things holy, please make it age appropriate.) All I’m saying is, I do not want to hear about it all the damn time. Have you ever had a fucking hobby? Read a book? A newspaper? Had an original thought? The world is vast, so is the brain (I hope). I swear it is socially approved to talk about other shit.

The internet is a veil that we all get to put on and be who we wish to be; while simultaneously being what we wish for people to see. And everyone uses that veil differently. Some to flex, others sell sex, others vent (too damn much at times), some to steal and others to sell a fantasy. Now those are not the only reasons, but they’re around for sure.

Everyday, we are logging into online communities and arenas with others, both local and long distance, to sell each other shows. To compete for the approval of the masses, as if it’s something to harp about. I’m going to let you in on a secret (don’t worry, I already opened the bandaid for the boo-boo I’m about to give you). Those people on the internet don’t actually give a fuck about you. It’s the image. Hate to break it to you, babes, but on the world-wide-web, you are only as good as the reputation you uphold. Personally, I stopped giving a fuck before I started. “To know you is to love you,” is something that one of my best friends said to me recently. And while he was hinting at the slight chance of bitch that may come along with my presence on any given day; it warmed my heart because it reminded me that the illusion will never top the real thing. Ever ask a “romantic interest” on the internet what they like best about you and it’s physical? Ding, ding, ding. It’s image. Ever ask somebody you actually know what they like about you and it’s super specific? Which feels better? Yeah, I bet.

Expectations vs reality is taking the world for whirl-n-twirl. Before we sat glued to little light boxes in our hands, we watched tv and listened to music. We built up anticipation of what life was supposed to be like. I’m talking everything from work, to love, to breaking up and moving on, and even how adulthood works. Our access to everything all of the time is quite literally rotting our brains from the inside out. (I mean look at you, smoke fills the air every time I ask a question.) When was the last time you used your imagination? And I’m being serious. We live in an era where people film everything and if they don’t have it, artificial intelligence will generate it for them. We’re ( and again, I use “we” lightly) not stimulating our minds most of the time. We’re using our little light boxes to give our brains hits and we’re over-indulging. And like with over-indulgence on anything, there are some negative side-effects. One of them being: everything you see is not real. Not like hallucinations, silly (while I would love to get you evaluated for shits and giggles, I won’t, yet). more like your depth perception is off. You’re seeing the shadows but not the objects. That’s where discernment comes into play. Is the grass really greener or the other side or do they just have the best fake grass your eyes have ever witnessed? That’s why I don’t fucking care. I give the masses the parts of me that I don’t mind sharing; and those I love get ions more. The internet, the fame/popularity, the ideals they try to sell you; it’s an illusion. Only you decide what you buy into.

I don’t know, man.

It really feels like, “y’all don’t hear me, y’all just wanna dance.”

talk soon.