I'm sick of all these books and films that put things into perspective
life doesn't wrap itself up neatly in a bow like that
it just goes on and on and on

and when the screen cuts to black and the credits roll, when I reach
the final page, the revelations that I have are only momentary lapses
in a never-ending deluge of insecurity and obfuscation

and this realization that my sense of calm provided by storybook
endings will itself fade into the ether of my stream-of-consciousness
thinking about that almost makes me wish I were brain dead

and I will piss all these deceptively self-aggrandizing blatherings
into the cesspool of negativity and impulsiveness
that we call the internet

with the hope that you will read it and think that I'm so deep and 
insightful when really you will judge, whether it be positive or negative
without ever truly knowing a single thing about me