Burn a dollar in front of a group of people. Watch their faces. This is perfect to do at lunch or dinner out with friends. Depending on your company, you may need to increase the value of the bill 5 20. 100. In the end its all worth the same anyway, just old worn green pieces of paper. Smile and watch as they bleed from the eyes to the basis for their daily lives go up in flames. You may as well be burning a flag or a cross. -the author
That dollar is more valuable to me than any cross anonymous, in response to the above paragraph
The cathode tube in front of me flickers at a frequency that I can just barely see from sitting here so long. Sounds of the office around me make my silent little cube just real enough to keep me tense. Everyone is jumpy and busy today, getting things done being productive in the way they know how. "This demo needs to be done by tomorrow." No it doesn't, the world will not end if it doesn't get done, your life will not stop its course toward its end, and the clock will not stop ticking. People all around occupy themselves with meaninglessness, money, friends, women, work, keep yourself important in your own mind. If humanity ever realizes it's actual worth, society would collapse. Everyone would realize that they no longer needed to run around like little happy worker bees in the wash. Get work done; advance in your little illusion; you feel big, you feel important, the center of the fucking universe.
I have always wanted to go sky diving, without one of those guides strapped to me. Falling through the air at some horrible speed, the wind rushing by me feels like I have my head out of an airplane window. The world looks so huge and so small from up here, pulling me toward it at this speed. Pull my parachute? I am a wet thud and another corpse spread out against the hard ground. A grain of sand hitting me at this speed would tear my skin, tiny paper cut-like scrape. At the moment when you pull your chute, you have your existence in your hands. Take the effort to pull the cord, or just flash to the ground at this speed, no pain, just darkness and whatever comes next. Nothing matters at that point but your life on a base level. No more job, no more friends, no enemies, no money, it all comes down to zero. All that matters is just you and the hard ground. What if the cord was pulled and nothing happened, or even a delay, it's only at that point do you realize truly that all those things are pointless and nothing. When your staring down the barrel of a loaded gun, its then you know that you are truly free.
"Good, bad or ugly?" Ted says to me. His dumb little cute way of asking how my project is going, old movie reference, every ten minutes. This project is important for tomorrow's demo. I want to point a gun at his face and make him realize that it doesn't matter, the project, this shit job, the money he is making and the suit he is wearing. It all boils down to nothing when your existence is threatened. "Its coming along fine, don't worry I'll finish it by tomorrow." I say. He sighs as if to tell me that he wants it done yesterday, fuck you Ted.
That dollar is more valuable to me than any cross anonymous, in response to the above paragraph
The cathode tube in front of me flickers at a frequency that I can just barely see from sitting here so long. Sounds of the office around me make my silent little cube just real enough to keep me tense. Everyone is jumpy and busy today, getting things done being productive in the way they know how. "This demo needs to be done by tomorrow." No it doesn't, the world will not end if it doesn't get done, your life will not stop its course toward its end, and the clock will not stop ticking. People all around occupy themselves with meaninglessness, money, friends, women, work, keep yourself important in your own mind. If humanity ever realizes it's actual worth, society would collapse. Everyone would realize that they no longer needed to run around like little happy worker bees in the wash. Get work done; advance in your little illusion; you feel big, you feel important, the center of the fucking universe.
I have always wanted to go sky diving, without one of those guides strapped to me. Falling through the air at some horrible speed, the wind rushing by me feels like I have my head out of an airplane window. The world looks so huge and so small from up here, pulling me toward it at this speed. Pull my parachute? I am a wet thud and another corpse spread out against the hard ground. A grain of sand hitting me at this speed would tear my skin, tiny paper cut-like scrape. At the moment when you pull your chute, you have your existence in your hands. Take the effort to pull the cord, or just flash to the ground at this speed, no pain, just darkness and whatever comes next. Nothing matters at that point but your life on a base level. No more job, no more friends, no enemies, no money, it all comes down to zero. All that matters is just you and the hard ground. What if the cord was pulled and nothing happened, or even a delay, it's only at that point do you realize truly that all those things are pointless and nothing. When your staring down the barrel of a loaded gun, its then you know that you are truly free.
"Good, bad or ugly?" Ted says to me. His dumb little cute way of asking how my project is going, old movie reference, every ten minutes. This project is important for tomorrow's demo. I want to point a gun at his face and make him realize that it doesn't matter, the project, this shit job, the money he is making and the suit he is wearing. It all boils down to nothing when your existence is threatened. "Its coming along fine, don't worry I'll finish it by tomorrow." I say. He sighs as if to tell me that he wants it done yesterday, fuck you Ted.