Post Birthday Ruminations

So, here I am as Pink Floyd says, "shorter of breath and one day closer to death." There are things in the news that probably warrant attention: the stock market is whining, people who couldn't afford homes to begin with are being foreclosed upon, the country is still waist deep in a factional war in the middle east and being run by some sort of escaped circus chimp. Today, however, I don't particularly give a shit because if there is any event that makes me think even more about impending doom it is my birthday.

It was classic. At my birthday party this past weekend a large group of "the family" came over and we sat around and opened presents and had cake and trotted out all the old cliches. It was okay and I am grateful but I thought it was funny how I ended up at the kitchen table away from everyone else with a quickly dwindling bottle of whiskey and what I'm told was a seriously hateful scowl. The dialog in my head went something like:

"Dude, you are getting pissed. This whiskey is not taking you cool."
"Did you just hear that? Oh my fucking god, I can't believe I just heard that."
"You've got two options: Kill this whiskey and hope you get too far, too fast or ease up and probably make a scene. Dammit."
"I really can't believe I just heard that shit. Un-Fucking-Believable."
"Fuck it, the baby probably isn't coming tonight. Drink up."
"I wonder if anyone has noticed that I'm over here not saying a word with this expression on my face."
"Maybe you should go smoke out. Nah, that's probably not a good idea."

Once again, I was in that place where I just wanted to scream like some modern day St. John about all the shit that was coming down on everyone very soon and that they needed to focus on shit that really mattered. Example, "Who the fuck cares about all the drivel you guys are talking about? We're all going to die! You've all missed the fucking point! Ahahahahahha." I think I would emphasize the point by vomiting all over the table.

On the other hand, I sometimes feel pretty happy that the things I see and listen to and experience will never be perceived the same way by anyone else. It's the only way I think that people are truly unique. I like knowing that when I see a certain landscape the things that it evokes in me will not ever be really known to anyone else. I think that has to do with my semi-anti-social mindset. It makes me think that if anyone else got the same exact meaning that I got out of things it would somehow cheapen it.

Well, enough of this shit. My parting shot of rage is directed today at hipsters. Man, I hate those fucking kids.

Fucking Homos.