If the best sperm turned into you, I wonder what would have been the potential of the rest
Bill Clinton is one of those few charismatic people who make your heads turn when he enters a room. The exact opposite of mister charm oozing Clinton are the following three kinds of people about whom you’ll know in a minute. To say that they are human beings would be an injustice to millions of those who really are. Whatever they maybe, they have pissed me off and when I am pissed off, fun begins.
There are folks who are doing things in life that are interesting and worth talking about. On the contrary, there are folks who indulge their mental energies in non-interesting stuff which is not even worth doing in the first place, forget the fuck about talking. In this first category of brain jammed people we have a special league of disastrous dummies that are known as Veganism Vendettas. These tomato juice drinkers will go to any extent to prove that they are right in gorging their mouths with vegetable paste and you’re wrong in consuming everything that you intake via mouth or use in day to day life. First they’ll accuse you of stealing milk from a cow’s baby for your own selfish purpose like “drinking” without knowing the basic fact that every domestic animal owner is not having a 100 acre dairy farm to run on Estrogen. Secondly, they’ll call you a rapist for touching a cow’s breasts because you didn’t take her consent. The last two lines are not made up, I have literally seen them written in a very long post on a South Delhi resident’s FB timeline. After watching a few videos on animal torture in highly commercial manufacturing scenarios, these people’s smartness now lets them assume that every person who owns a bitch does that solely to penetrate her ass in doggy style on lonely nights. If all this nonsense is not enough, they people join PETA and do every fucking shit to convince an omlette lover like me to stop killing baby chickens inside the egg just for the sake of taste. It is not murder because it is incubation you foolish piece of green leafy crap. Also, cow’s milk on a “normal scale” is consumed only when the calves are full to their throats. I don’t think this is known to these people because the only time they saw a village was never. These are living creatures, not your food and clothes. Yeah, you’re vegan and I’m not. If someone’s mouth drools when roasted fish is lying in their plate, it won’t make you any less of a vegan if you accept their hunger as it is. Eating meat might have some benefits or it might be as dangerous as eating Gunpowder, but if we don’t care, why the hell are such promoters of conscious lifestyle interested in changing us? These folks are the culinary equivalent of girls in chic lit romance who want to turn a bad boy into a good one. They may succeed in their venture of finding and keeping a Christian Gray for spanking purposes, but you my turnip swallowing friends, you won’t. Shove a woolen glove up your vegan ass and tell the world that some insensitive person shaved the hair of a sheep without taking her permission from the Department of Pseudo Intellectuals. Go and hate Gucci’s leather belts and rest in as many pieces as your breakfast carrot may allow itself be cut into.
Among different kinds of diseases and illnesses, mental issues constitute quite a big part. Or so it seems after looking at people on social media who write things such as “Broken AF” in their bio. Knowing a simple fact that the way we think is the way we behave, I stay away from those profiles where shit like “A mess of shattered aspirations” is visible. Come on, if you have something to say or express in particular, there are ways to do that without being a validation seeking pile of junk. Psychologists and psychotherapists offer you the comfort and trust to outline your problems and beliefs which in turn will take you a step closer to being mentally sane. Being an attention diverting wannabee on FB is a sure fire way to lose friends and followers. Everytime I see something that goes along the lines of “Depression is a real problem”, I am left with no choice other than blocking that person. I am not afraid of mentally ill folks but those who make their issues a USP for marketing their tiny egos; I don’t wanna be near them by any fucking luck. If depression, anxiety, PTSD, OCD, BPD or any other thing is bothering you, I won’t be seeing such posts on my timeline. Rather you would be seeing a professional. The worst part is that people have now started narrating poems on their so called “emotional turmoil”. I am sure you have many but by making it public, there is a very high chance that your listener might get into comparing their issues with yours. And this is never ever a good way to deal with your problems. By calling yourself “Voice of the suppressed” you might become the decorated warrior in your poorly read gang of nihilist retards but it won’t make you any better on the inside. Those who are really suppressed, they get themselves un-supressed by Somatic therapy, Gestalt therapy, CBT, NLP, Vipassana or whatever might work for them. In your perception if you think that talking about your feelings and such things will lead to any improvement of them, let me tell you this for once and for all. No amount of claps in poetry slams and no number of “sad” reacts on your FB posts are gonna make you accept your own shit. We all have shit that stinks but if you’re willing to wrap yours in a fancy gift paper, the shit is not gonna stop stinking. It takes hard ass diligence to accept the stink of your shit and make efforts to not let it stink more than what it now does. Now write a poem on how this deeply hurt your surface level sentiments and narrate it in your next self help poetry meetup.
Some people learn the hard way and for the rest, there is no way they can bypass concepts through their brain. These types of humans do exist and are called Environmental Enthusiasts. Between all the stupidity that you may encounter in a lifetime of work in the job you’re at, it can never exceed the level of stupidity that these people possess on an hourly scale. Hugging trees is their hobby, planting saplings on birthdays is their duty and offering paper bags as gifts is their professional ethic. Nothing can offend someone who carries the shield of Captain America. On the other bloody hand, these people move around with a protective barrier of self esteem that is just a flower pluck away. Flowers are meant to be plucked, their broken petals be smelled and crushed to take the sticky juice out on fingers. But if you do this small act of innocent nature play in front of these biology fact vomiting junkies, they’ll call you an insensitive living being who hampered the process of pollination and became an obstacle for the honeybee who was on the verge of sucking nectar from the flower you just plucked. The houses of these overeager “Mangifera Indica” fanatics have more plants and pots than what you and I can fill with piss in one whole week of drinking five liters of beer a day. On top of this bullshit they have this repulsive habit of giving you Fuck Logics to somehow persuade you in joining their club of “Mother Nature Lovers”. At times these people even have the self denial capacity to make claims such as knowing the mating call of Owls and the hibernation habitat of Anacondas. How rubber condoms are unfit for soil below a mustard plant and why mining industry is actually the leading cause of cancer in Silicon Valley entrepreneurs, these kind of ideas come naturally to them. Almost as naturally as my urge to spit and pee in plants when I see a flower trying to get its head out of a bud. I know that one day the Earth will collapse under the harm that we have done to it. Even these people will die no matter how much they brag about their last year’s reduction in carbon footprint. And yeah, global warming is not gonna slow down if you keep drinking water from your refrigerator while taking breaks during your social media awareness campaign on greenhouse gases.
An anxious little chap might stab himself with a knife after reading the part on Depressed Disasters. I wanted to be soft and gentle on them but the more I tried to be so, the harder it became to control my hands which went on writing and writing until I burst into a mockery filled laugh that was way wider than Terminator’s jawline. Next in this venture of nuisance will be full fledged articles where one specific person will be smashed to tears just so that they stop posting puppy videos, coffee mug images and wanderlust hashtags at the pretext of the hole that their soul has. One guy who was interested in a slam poetry contest decided to not go for it. Great going. Thanks.