You wanted the truth...[A rambling confession]

  For me it has always been a performance or something. I can never quite say what it is for me. Change. That's what. It's always different. The moment I have it is gone as quick as the one in which all goes to hell. Flow on. There is no particular point to it all. It's like a billion different games you play. The rules change, the goals change. Only one constant, the fact that you're here for it. It's always now you're playing with, other than that you don't have any guarantees. It doesn't matter whether you accept the terms or conditions, mom and dad fucked at least once and that means you're here. It's like a vacation that's gone on far too long and we'd all like to go home now. It was nice for a way but getting cold is getting old and whether we admit it or not most of us would just like to be held again. There are plenty of diversions to forget how hungry or cold we are for a while. But why are we here. No reason. Your parents fucked, thats it. You don't even know this isn't a dream or your parents are yours, or if you're living in the Truman show. You watch other people change, live and die, but you don't seem to observe the same thing in yourself. Angry people shout with certainty about why we are here and what we should do, the more sure they are the more the feel the need to prove it. Something doesn't add up. Something doesn't add up about all this. Because it isn't a fucking equation. It just is what it is. Mom and Dad fucked, you are here, welcome. Sorry about all this, it's not your fault. But consider yourself responsible from here on out.