Monday, January 13, 2014

This is Your Life, a Children's Inspirational Book

This is Your Life
A children's inspirational book
by T. Pascal
When you were born, you caused a great deal of damage to your precious mother's body. She was grateful to expel you from her body.
  As you grew, you were a vapid milk-farting, vomit-spewing attention hog. If you were abandoned or abused or neglected, it wasn't your fault because you had no agency and had no choice in the matter. You'll likely blame yourself anyway.
  You aren't special, in fact you're quite mediocre. Those 8th place medals are just symbols of lies you'll be told.
  And then, there's the problem with your name.
  In school, you'll be bullied and taunted. If you are different in any way, (and you are guaranteed to be different somehow) you'll be mercilessly pummelled back into an average sized societal shape that no one likes and few enjoy.
  In high school you'll either be a virgin or a whore, either of which are preferable to being gay.
  Your insides will be so broken it's like chewing on glass and sand and pebbles, which is better than feeling nothing. Except you'll anesthetise yourself to feel nothing, and you'll wish for suffering so you can feel again. You'll just pine from the days when you could wipe your ass clean in two wipes.
  If you don't start drinking or drugs by high school, you'll be doomed to face the world mostly sober, a fate worse than prison.
  You will learn the hell that is family, learning this painful lesson each year during the holidays.
  Your sexual awakening will be awkward and embarrassing at best. Revolting and scaring at worst.
  You'll go through a memory box full of useless trash you've collected throughout your life, wondering if you could have made something of yourself if you had done something or nothing or anything different. Don't worry, you won't amounted to much anyway.
  You will be subjected to all kinds of racism, sexism, ageism, and intolerance from people who know how you should live your life. That's ok, you'll do the same to them.
  Assuming you aren't brave enough to kill yourself and you're too cowardly to be homeless, you'll seek out a job that you will hate and work with co-workers who hate you.
  The good news is they're just as scared of revealing their incompetence to you as you are scared to reveal yourself to them.
  You'll be alone so long you'll wish you were dead, but if it were that easy, everyone would be dead.
  When you sleep, you might dream, but they become nightmares. Not dreaming is an option, just take lots of drugs.
  Speaking of dreams, they'll tell you to dare to dream. Why "dare"? You don't want to find out.
  You'll wake up one morning and think, "Am I in heaven? Is it a beautiful day?" No, you're not. And no, it's not.
They say there is someone special out there for you. It's a lie you stop believing quickly.
  You might meet someone who doesn't throw up at the sight of your face, or at least, doesn't talk about you behind your back. This person who pretends to be your soul mate will likely destroy your emotions and trust as soon as it is profitable to do so.
  Guilt will eat at your soul until there's nothing left, then vomit it back up and start again.
  At least you still think you have a soul with anything.
  But you don't have a soul, and there's no God to save it if it did exist.
If you're hoping someone will save you or fix you, don't hold your breath.
  Hopefully you haven't passed on this terminal life sickness to children, but if you have, you deserve what you get. You won't sleep at all for 18 years, and you can't have sex either. Good choice, asshole.
  If you're unlucky, you'll die a long protracted death of boredom and misery surrounded by everyone you love and cherish while they live on, young and vibrant and full of life.
  If you're moderately lucky you might find a few moments of respite engaged in some behaviour you enjoy to pass a few hours here and there.
  If you are truly fortunate and blessed (and I certainly hope so), you will die quickly and painlessly after having lived just enough and experienced a few interesting things in this perpetual prison of existence.
  If you're religious, you think you'll go to heaven or hell or some shit, but that's a lie.
  You'll join the atheists as bacteria food, trying not to notice their smug smiles in the next grave over saying, "I told you so."
  If you're Buddhist, you get to go back and do it all over again as a dung beetle.
  Namaste, motherfucker.

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