maniac

Why are we mad?

"A time is coming when men will go mad, and when they see someone who is not mad, they will attack him saying, 'you are mad, you are not like us.' "

Why have we set out to destroy our own race. The abolition of the human race, through abortion, through disease, through birth control, through environmental regulations. Why are we mad? Why do we seek to create a world devoid of humanity. Why do we attempt to create a world rich in natural resources when they will be resources for an absent society. The abolition of humankind is what it will take to create this "zero emissions" world, because with every breath we exhale, we emit.

Oh, humanity, we are a sick, sick people. We are a gruesome horror, a devious plotting populace. We kill and rape and steal for nothing. Or worse, for gain. We do unto our neighbor atrocities of the vilest nature, then cry for a perversion of justice when he retaliates. Humanity, you are a disease, a plague, a cursed race. You are Babylon.

When we are all so mad, how can we say that one is mad and another is not? We're all mad here, and even if you don't want to be among mad people, you have no choice, because you're here, and everyone here is mad.

Is there a difference between content and complacent? We are told to be content. But shouldn't we constantly want something better. Everything inside screams for second life, we were meant to live for so much more. And we did, we did lost ourselves somewhere we live inside. And we have, we have been living with our eyes half open. And we are, we are bent and broken. But we can't see the extent of the damage, because we're bent and broken. If you have a cut on your back, you know you have it, because you can feel the pain and you can see the blood that comes off in your hands... but you can't see it. Not by yourself. It takes something outside yourself, a mirror, a friend, a camera, to see how bad the cut is. And even then, the information cannot be translated perfectly. We're all mad, we know, we don't know how mad. And so we condemn others for being mad, because we can see (imperfectly) that they are worse than we feel.

What a mad, mad race. Man, you are mad, you are mad as me.