It’s always there…

I have been thinking whether putting it on my blog or not, but fuck-it, enjoy the spread of my anger!

People just don’t want to write about their lives, internet is a dumpster of bad and good… People prefer the glamor of the beautiful banners, facebook shit, google search engine for fetish images and youtube videos from jackass-idiots. Everything is being copy-pasted, copyrighted and then again copy-pasted, then money is made, and roll-over again. No word about feeling, about the life, about things that really matters. Somewhere in that black-hole of information happiness is lost for good, and then people try to figure out their problems by searching the google for well-known fatal deseases…

It’s so dreadful reading the local Israeli news homepage, it is full of depression, shit and banners that try to sell you gadgets that you can take with you to grave! Even in the supermarkets as you go and buy cucumbers or apples, you know that these veggies are grown on polluted water, sprayed with poison to keep the insects away that are actually fatal to human being. And the shit they sell the people for twice the money called the healthy or organic food, actually just called that way, but made out of the same crap. Then again you pay taxes, for another polluting electricity station, for politicians which make the country to go to war for killing muslims, jews, kids, FUCK… And then you hear how people for some strange reason die from cancer, you name it… Everything, beginning from small tumors to deadly and fatal tumors with metastasis.

The most dreadful thing, is that you work and work for nothing and then again work for money that actually kills your life, feelings, as you come home, the baby is sleeping the wife is tired and doesn’t have a feeling to make love… It died somewhere… The anxiety of loosing it all for fucking banners and gadgets you can buy on the internet. Easy money, easy come and easy go a religion for dummies and for uneducated crowd.

Then you take some book about some new bullshit as some crazy ass writer invents – trying to be interesting, the feeling to burn that book and then crucify the writer for stupidity. NEW STUFF? We cannot actually relax, it’s a fake. You just take another bottle of vodka, then you think you get drunk, and then you just sick your soul out to the drain because of the pain which refuses to die…