The boy had grown up as most boys do. Rebellious in nature. Raging against authority figures that he did not understand. Living in a world that he didn’t understand. As he grew up, he grew up in an abject nature and abject regard for all of his surroundings. He didn’t know what a friend was and he was growing accustomed to their presence. These friends, these people who called themselves friends. They were around when everything was happening. When everything was progressing smoothly. When life was but a game. Fun and games for everyone around them. Drinking booze. Plenty of booze. Plenty of cigarettes. Plenty of things that people had fun with. Of course, people could enjoy themselves when they were younger. Youth is a bewildering state of affairs. Full of fun and frolicking. Frolicking, frolicking… Who doesn’t love a good frolic?

Then, as time passed, he had to grow up. Had to get a job. And when he got his job he had to work. Everyone made him work. There was something like twenty-two million people in the country. They were all dependent upon one another. And dependent upon one another for the stupidest of reasons. That was, it wasn’t a stupid reason, not a stupid reason at all. They all had children, they all had wives, they all had families to feed. These were the worlds that people were living in. Most jobs existed as a cultural experience. Providing the children an enriching life. Giving people something to do. And they were all accumulating debt to do so.

The people called out in rage at how badly they were being fucked over. Being fucked over by the man. And who was the man? The man was that little boy who had to grow up and survive to support himself. To exist in a world where he had to pay his bills and make his own way. Now, the little boy had already been fucked over in his childhood himself. Not that people could give a rat’s arse. But that was the boy and his life.

One day he quit his job. He made the attempt to defend the people that were always crying out about how badly they had been fucked over. The point was, he cared when he shouldn’t have. These people had little understanding of the world that they lived in. Oh, they thought they did. Everybody thought they did. But at the end of the day everything was pointless. It was all an existential existence. That was, life was pointless. The realization had already come across. And the anti-war campaigners, those social activists that were so often worshipped as heroes. Well, they all thought that they were fighting against a corrupt system. They all thought that the world was corrupt without ever looking within their own inner nature. If they had taken one second of self-reflection, they too would have realized that they were part of the establishment themselves. That they, too, were corrupt. A politician spends their life attempting to seize power so that they can make the changes that they had set about in their youth. When they finally reach that pinnacle, they realize that they can’t really do much of anything. And so are stuck doing the best job that they can under the circumstances.

And just like the boy who rebelled against the system in his youth. He eventually becomes a building block in the world of adults. It was hilarious. Oh, so hilarious. One had to laugh at their own hypocritical nature. Realize that the ideas of character and honour were all shit when faced with the reality of the world.

And as the boy who had grown up into a man, he drank the last thimble of whiskey from the bottle. With a gun in his hand. He pointed it at his own head and pulled the trigger. After all, in the end that was the honourable thing to do when he found himself in a situation of being a burden on the rest of society. And the man had a soul… He did have that.

And when the people heard they rejoiced. Because in their confusion and lacking clarity, they thought to themselves, ‘We killed the bad guy.’

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