Losing my grip and flying high

Last night, I told all my hopes, fears and conflicting thoughts to a praying mantis who was swaying on the tip of my thumb. As far as interspecies communication goes, I’m breaking new ground while actively avoiding as many people as humanly possible.

See, I plan on drifting completely around all y’all and into the end of summer like a hella-modded Mazda RX-7. The wheel is cut, and the emergency brake is a singing “arriverderci Pee Wee, I hope to not see ya in the promised land” — now eat my dust, you Opie Taylor-lookin’ motherfu. Now see — that’s what I’m talking about, losing my grip and flying high off the Van Damme handle! You, you, you, you fuckin’ cats with yer ideology and yer theology and yer Wikipedia wise men have me feeling dumber for having ever met ya… I need a break, a separation, a gosh-darn divorce from the American public before I go full Akira and destroy everything around me with my bodily expansions; just wipe you all out in an eruption of veins, ligaments, guts and brains, growing, bursting, over-fuckin’ flowing and consuming, until it’s all me all the time everywhere. If one more white boy with dreadlocks tells me he has the truth, he’s losing a tooth. It’s 2017, bro — how in the living daylights do you still even have that hairstyle, while pretending to know what’s best for the rest?

I got Kim Jong-un looming over me as he plays with multimillion-dollar missiles, like they was made by Nerf, or some shit, and my city has been overrun with demented, angry, little Christians, foaming at the mouth and stark raving mad at the fact that they can’t throw every woman they see into chains. Like Jesus, my dude, come collect your people, calls these gross turds home already, because they literally have nothing better to do than block a sidewalk in asphalt-melting, mid-July heat. Ignoramuses of the highest order! You ever seen one of these loony tunes, Bible-thumping zealots throw themselves on the concrete in front of a woman’s health clinic? Yo, I have, back in the ‘90s, and my main man Yo-Yo called it straight up when he said: “That dude’s malfunctioning on the ground there. He’s gone and blown both of his lobes.” I mean didn’t the Nasty Nazarene himself say something about when you pray, you should do it alone, behind closed doors, for the father is unseen, because no one wants to, and nor should they be subjugated to, see that shit. Like 100 percent, Jesus said that, (Matthew 6:6), but hey — they don’t even listen to the fucking book they claim to!

Wack hypocrites, one and all.

And I’ll tell ya, you can’t find proof more definitive — what the world needs now are fewer humans running around wrecking shit than stumbling upon a mob of crazy-train Christians, clogging the pathway in an attempt to control the actions of a free individual.

Fucking people! Nah, nopes and no fucking way. I’m done with y’all for the season.

Even you well intentioned types — y’all need a new narrative and a new narrator! I got this buddy who’s a well-intentioned type and believes wholeheartedly that our current situation is just a hurdle we got to get over to bring the real future to life. (Look, he has kids… don’t be so hard on him. Of course, he believes in building a better tomorrow, he has to, he has children!) So this dude sends me a link of Noam Chomsky talking his big-dry-as-hell talk, and I was like “oh, good grief.” Didn’t Noam Chomsky get the memo back in like ‘96 that read: “Dear Mr. Chomsky. No one is paying attention to a fucking word you say. Sincerely, America. P.S. Go Ninja! Go Ninja! Go!”

Like what has the Mr. Know-It-All crowd been waiting for, huh? When are they gonna initiate their master plan that supposedly is gonna make everything fuckin’ better for every fuckin’ body? Have they just been biding their time for the last 200-odd years or so, are they having branding issues, a problem coming up with a slick slogan? Or maybe they’re just full of shit too. Like, check it.

Everyone I came up with under Ronald Reagan was poor as fuck. They stayed poor under Bush, Clinton, Bush Part 2: The Dumbening. They stayed poor under Obama, and now they’re all gonna die poor under the watch of President Tweet. Thanks. For. Nothing.

If you see me out and about, don’t holler at me ‘cause I ain’t tryin’ to holler at you. Peace.