Limited Beliefs Pt. 2
I wrote a post last year about the Art & the Ego.
I’ve been giving increasingly less fucks in the past few weeks and it’s interesting to see how people are taking it.
Some people say I’m being rude.
Some people say I’m a pig, that I like sex too much.
Some people say I’m full of shit.
It was funny to see a friend of mine who has accused me of being rude to servers, multiple times, talking “politely” to our waitress. After a long and drawn out, over annunciated request, she “politely” asked him why he was talking to her as if she was autistic.
We’ve run into a real motherfucker – Laura, the waitress.
I then invited her to quit her job on the spot and come with us to the next bar, which she declined, but mutual adoration was exchanged.
This pleasantries thing is a constant comedy to watch – the various ways that people interpret manners and act them out in a way that goes directly against the spirit of manners, which is just to maintain amicable relations between people.
What happens when instead of acting in need of approval, you act according to your true feelings?
You fuckin scare the shit out of people!
It shakes their illusions.
It makes them question their fronts.
It titillates a little part of their being that still knows what it means to be free.
Who is this guy who thinks he can go around doing whatever the fuck he wants, openly inviting women to join him in vaguely described activities, living in a rhythm which is not the hum drum zombie dance.
Last week I cried in front of a large group of women. We had all decided to come back to my place after a night out in Miami.
Oh shit I’m confusing myself with Leonardo Di Caprio again. My mistake. This was on a yoga retreat.
And I’m just giggling to myself right now.
Because I can.
And so can you.
But it was fuckin liberating! … I like half cried… like silent style. And I didn’t even know why it was happening.
Next time you’re at a bar watch a guy get up and go to the bathroom. It’s very amusing. Most of us carry the weight of a full fuckin knight suit on our shoulders. Arms out, traps tight, weighed down by our protective armour, ready to defend ourselves should someone look at us with a smirk.
And that’s just going to take a piss!
Fuck me if a situation comes up that requires actual courage!
Everyone’s fucked and they don’t even know.
– Mother Mother – The Stand