..Despite my pseudo-bohemian appearance and vaguely leftist doctrine of beliefs, I know nothing ABOUT art or sex that you couldn't read in any trendy new york underground fashion magazine...Proto-typical non-conformist. I am a vacuous soldier of the thrift store gastapo. I adhere to a set of standards and tastes that appear to be determined by an unseen panel of hipster judges-BULLSHIT-giving your thumbs up and thumbs down to incoming and outgoing trends and styles of music and art. Go analog baby, I'm so post-modern. I'm diving face forward into an antiquated past, it's disgusting! It's offensive! Don't stick your nose up at me! Yeah, what do you have to say for yourself?
When I walk by a group of quote-unquote normal people I chuckle to myself, patting myself on the back as I scoff. It's the same superority complex shared by the high school jocks who made my life a living hell, makes me a slave to the competitive capitalist dogma I spend every moment of my waking life BITCHING about!
Well let me tell you this, I am shamelessly self-involved. I spend hours in front of the mirror making my hair elegantly disheveled. I self-medicate with drugs and alcohol to help treat my extreme social anxiety problem. You are a FAKER! You are a FRAUD! You're living a LIE! You don't impress me! You don't intimidate me! ADMIT IT! Why don't you bow down, get on the ground, walk this fucking plank! I'm proud of my life and the things that I have done, proud of myself and the loner i've become. You're free to whine. It will not get you far. I do just fine, my car and my guitar, and I am done with this. I wanna taste the breeze of every great city, my car and my guitar. You're urgently unfulfilled, when I'm dead I'll rest.
I AM THE INTERNET!!