welcome to the jungle

I'll say it like it is, and it might be cruel, but niceness is rendering itself useless. I have not one cabin to explore.
My conscience has become kind of mainstream. I've tried to adapt to the everyday and so the now highly spirited persona parties are just boring and useless. Not useless but in my point of view they feel like a huge obstacle to the next working day. And I knew from the very beginning of conforming that this would happen; that sticking up for the "good" and "productive" of society, or whatever it is called, would have me lose something fundamental along the way. The recklessness isn't some kind of wasteful feeling; it's youth. And if one sobers up and becomes tingly to the every effect of liberty then one becomes weak. Weak in an aspect of idiocy. And one loses the very touch of young-ness and certainty - and some kind of self-confidence that comes imbedded with not giving a fuck. Not a flying fuck to sobriety. Sobriety is evil? I don't know. I don't know. Pureness of what? Of substance? Of mind? What are we all abstaining from? What are we all so afraid of? To live as the poor? We work for money to live well. But if we didn't and we had the option of being complete fuckheads for the rest of our duration, than what would it be? If we could choose to concentrate on things other than being responsible money-breeders, then what would it be of us? Most of us would be complete turkeys, lolling about town and creating nuisance. Imagine the world filled with jobless humans. The human race would be a complete disgrace. And so I am caught in a point in which I see nothing but this, and every party that I go to, every venue and every hour, and every fun seemingly seems like a lot less fun, save if my ego is being stroked. And I guess it's because I'm conforming bit by bit, and it scares me, more than it scared me feeling like a complete outsider to the mundane game I'm now a part of.

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