Mystic Metals Body Jewelry
I haven't written in a while. I have been in a terrible block. It happens. Also, I broke up with my girlfriend recently which was and is difficult. I'll choose to not explain further because it's not really your business. Also, I have a guy shit talking me to someone else because of my aesthetic and my handicap, and I hope he breaks his fingers. Also, I have a guy who never met me shit talking me in Chicago, and I hope his kid dies. It's been a rough couple of weeks, but I'm going to try to write for you. This could be terrible; just a heads up.
Welcome to October, kids. If you cats and kittens read me, you'll know that October is spina bifida awareness month. I know, it's also breast cancer month. We chose poorly. So be aware. There's some spina bifida out there. And tit cancer. I think some shitty organ has its month in October too. At any rate, there's that.
What does that do, however. Drawing awareness. There's a certain kind of dense consideration of reality in these awareness month things. Be aware. I suppose the idea is that whatever freak bullshit it is, the attention will turn into proaction. Which, I think, is horseballs. Healthy people walking through an idiot dumping paint on you isn't going to help me walk. It's just going to make the walker feel good about himself that he 'did something' for someone he may or may not know who has the disease of the week. And yes, I understand the point. These healthy false altruists pay a fee to participate in whatever bullshit so there's money going to research and resources and other re-things. I'd be more pleased with writing a check and skipping the walk. It'll save money and make it easier to drive down Broad Street on any given Saturday. It'll also keep me from hearing all the bullshit about who's going to do the run with whom as if it is some social event sponsored by the people with the disease. I'm not bitter that my fuct up problem happens to be celebrated in the same month as a sexy problem, like cancer. I have a problem with the pageantry.
Have you seen some of the commercials for... um, I guess the commercials are advertising cancer. Which is a weird product to sell. You know what I'm talking about. Some of them have taken a cue from those brutal ASPCA commercials, and have the sad music and the C list actor and the photos of children dying. They guilt you into donating because you're heathy. That's disgusting to me. But those kinds of things don't work on everyone, so they have organized activities. They get a whole bunch of people without the disease together to walk or run or do whatever and convince them that the fun they're having doing the stupid thing is helping the people who are dying. Or worse; that it gives them hope. If you have a disease and watching someone walk gives you the hope to live, then you're a way simpler person than I am.
Maybe I'm just a pessimist. I'm probably just a pessimist. But awareness makes me wretch. If there is anyone in this country who is unaware that cancer exists, then that isn't the kind of person who is going to help cure the disease. Sorry. That guy is an idiot and we don't need idiots; we need scientists. Spina bifida isn't a topic of constant discussion, so the degree of awareness is less than that of other diseases. But wearing a ribbon isn't going to make us walk, nor is it going to destroy a tumor or mend a brain. Personally, I don't need support. I need a cure.
I hate the medical industry. It's a business. It is based on money versus success. A shitty doctor gets paid less because his product is crap. That's why you go to huge named hospitals for better care. More money equals better products. See also; Kia v. Mercedes. I'm not one of those conspiracy theorists who think that cancer will intentionally never be cured because cancer is a ginormous money making business. I only sort of think that. But I do believe that if people without the problem have the will and desire to help, they can help without the obnoxious pageantry of 'look what I'm doing to help.' You should want to help because it is the right thing to do, not because people are watching. Ok, that's a bitter and angry thing to say. But marketing and rebranding doesn't cure diseases. Science does. Privately funded science. They did pretty well with polio without parties and parades and ad campaigns and events and celebrities filled with ideals and politics and misinformation.
Ok, this is really negative and cranky. It probably has to do with this cunt mouth groom who bounced a check to me and my band for gigging his wedding this weekend. That's another story. I hope there's a hurricane during his honeymoon. Let's take a step back and catch a breath for a second. Why am I so wound up. I'm not sure. Life has been intolerable recently, for obvious reasons. I don't want any hope. And I think that is my prerogative so to do. I want to wallow in my filth for a little while and reflect on how everything blows. Because it does and I don't need some bullshit, otherworld example like, 'at least you don't have scurvy' kind of tits on a boar useful statements. It doesn't help, and I just want to take two minutes to hate your healthy spine. Don't worry, I like you. But your stupid healthy spine is a dickhead. I think the stepping back breath from the beginning of this paragraph didn't work. Let me go have a cigarette and see if that helps.
Delicious cigarette. I'm better now. Let's talk about kittens. Aren't kittens great? They have little paws and little tails and little other things. They're just great. Fuzzy things make everything better, unless we're talking about my chest and then it's kind of gross. Ok. Little negative slip there. Back to kittens. I like those ones with the flat ears. They always look so worried. It's ok, little flat eared kitten buddy. Nothing to worry about here. I'll buy you a yarn ball and some catnip and some toys and treats, and when I bring them all home, you'll play in the free bag they came in and not the stuff itself. And it'll be great. See? I can be a positive guy. The next blog will have a point. I promise. Stay beautiful, kids.
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