I think I hate myself. I'm such a square. I sit with one foot stomped down on the other and strum my guitar like nothing means anything anyway. I know that's true, all this means nothing, I know enough to say no knowledge will ever be enough. It's an endless, fatal struggle when nothing we do could ever reach the truth. I can't find all the answers. Not to the real questions, no one can. That's why we make up new questions, to feel like we're getting somewhere. What is this? What does it mean? nothing. We're all dead. We ingest crap and spit it back out again. All our lives, but in the end it doesn't matter anyway. Why make the world better? We're just going to die. For the next generation? They're going to die too. They are dead, so are we. We're all the same, worthless. We're equals.
But I, I am less equal.
