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Untitled Misanthropy is a powerful drug. Hate does not appear without reason, but it is seldom the object of your scorn that is to blame. But I hate, loathe and despise, and have no urge to fight that emotion. It is the hypocrisy of man that is the object of my scorn. Disgust upon the simplicity of corruption, and an abolishment of kinship. Humanity disgusts me with prejudicial contempt and arrogant pride. I am no exception. Because everyone lie. Everyone. You do. I do. We were, are and will never be able to acquire objective knowledge - truth in its proper sense - and spend every single fucking day, fighting for what we currently believe is right. The keyword is "believe". Dogmas are handed out, embraced and overthrown, and since the dawn of pagan worship to positive scientific research, the actual results are adjusted to better suit the established dogmas of our time. Religious fanatics smash in faces because of exegetics, whilst the science present a new, secular dogma that sheep follow blindly, content with the absence of the word "God" within the scripture. Theory and practice fight to cooperate while politicians alter, censor or ridicule discoveries and researches that is co-productive to their own agendas. Jane and John Doe stands in the middle, unable to practice criticism of sources, and eagerly adopt a pre-made set of principles, while failing to see how their everyday actions work in direct conflict with these interests. Marked by her own upbringing, social stature, education and neighborhood, Humanity is unable to understand and realise the views and needs of someone living next door. I was born in the 80's, my mother was a pre-school teacher and my father was a recreation instructor. I am a male middle child between two sisters. I grew up in a small district on the countryside, which is mainly built around a steel processing plant. This is my mark and it will affect everything I say, do or think regarding everything and everyone I encounter. I cannot claim superiority, be it intellectually or philosophically. I wish I could, that I would allow myself that arrogance, because it would keep me sane and keep me from clawing at my face in the middle of the night. But I am not superior. I am just another lost child on this earth. My confusion lies in that I observe how humanity is torn apart at the seams, but cannot present an alternative dogma. We laugh, darkly, at the silliness of our predecessors, mocking their futile attempt to comprehend creation, and I realise that within decades, people with laugh at me as well. And there lies my rational dead-end: How can I fight for something I know is a lie? ..and I get scared. I feel sad, and then angry. Fear turns to Anger which turns to Hate. I need an enemy, but I cannot exclude myself from my collection of antagonists. I wish for an apocalypse. I wish for utter, fucking destruction, be it thermonuclear warfare or an airborne AIDS-pandemic. And if I survive long enough to witness the heaps of human remains, I will dance laughingly at their heads and await my own demise, slitting my cheeks in a perpetual grin and hope for a painful death as to atone for my own part in this travesty. Misanthropy is a powerful drug. But sometimes, drugs is the only thing that will keep you sane.
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