Breaking through the reverie of the trivial and meaningless thought

I stand at the edge, an abyss of ever-flowing garbage-thought awaiting me, if I choose to jump off. Well, not choose if, but choose when. Not everyone is an artist, garbage-thought has always existed. Mindless trotter that you forgive and forget daily for existing. It's not its fault that it must flow through the streets, if non-artists generate garbage-thought, then so be it.

Its never been this concentrated, though. From pen, to printing press, to digital mind control, the action of spreading garbage-thought has only been getting easier and easier with each iteration of written word. We could go even further back. It must've been pretty hard for these guys carving words into stone, right? Then clay, which is admittedly easier to work with than stone, but still wildly inconvenient to write things on. The harder something is to express, from a physical standpoint, the more focused the thought written on it is. There's a lot of planning involved in carefully carving out a chunk of text on a rock, man. Barely any prep involved with writing with a modern, cutting edge pen. No thought is required to sit down and start fingertip dancing around a computer keyboard. That doesn't make keyboard-typed works garbage, it just allows for more garbage-thought to flow through.

Artists have started creating garbage. Digital mind control is rapidly taking over the fertile minds of old and new artists alike, attaching them to Trivial and Mindless Thought. I do not hold a deep resentment towards the artists, but rather the means through which their mind is stunted. I blame post-modernism. From what I understand, post-modernism is the rejection of objectivity in art. But art imitates life, so we find ourselves in an age where every aspect of life is entirely subjective. With no objectivity, there's no truth, nothing to hold onto. Every thought that you have, everything you believe in, everything around you, it could all be a lie, and you wouldn't know. And you'll never know. You know the ground below you is solid and you know the lakes around you are liquid, but other people could have it backwards, other people could know it backwards. When everything is subjective and everyone has their own subjective beliefs, the only way to form an objective image of the world is through taking that scattered rainbow of beliefs, and smushing it back into a solid beam of light.

If my cock was a pussy i'd be very sad and cry