is it just me?

It’s hard not to be a misanthrope when people are such shit-bags. I was hoping my psychedelic experiences would encourage some sense of unity with my fellow man, but I guess maybe I’ve not taken a large enough dose of any mind altering substance to trick me into believing that humanity is basically a club composed of generally good creatures, and that I’m a card carrying member. In certain states – altered to greater or lesser degrees or entirely sober – I feel a sense of connection to the ground beneath my feet, the air I breathe, the myriad shivering mammals and birds and scaly things and oozing protozoa with whom I share this mouldering planet – but people? These cruel and ignorant braying morons? No thanks. It’s not that I consider myself superior – it’s not like I’ve used my love allotment up on myself and have nothing left for the rest of my species; I have no love for myself, either. I don’t consider myself to be any better than the rest of them, and often get on my last few nerves just as alarmingly as they do, but…I dunno. What is there to like about them? I KNOW that some of them are not entirely diabolical garbage – but the ones who aren’t seem to be in the same boat as me, paddling upstream in a river of  trash and shit, desperately trying to get away from the wilful stupidity, the racism, the narcissism, the weakness and violence and greed. They’re horrible. They’re out there now, playing their dreadful music so loud that everyone else has to listen to it, tapping fag ash on their kids’ heads while their dogs shit in the streets, lazy and entitled, uninterested in anything but their own nasty, brutish lives, dead eyes always seeking a way to fuck each other over, seeking to enslave, subjugate and control each other for shallow, vicious pleasure…

…or is it just me?

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