torment

Torment

Repetition, ignorance and the acceptance of it as ‘the norm’, these pigs rolling junk food around their wide-open traps so loudly I can still hear them over the din of the materialistic wankers’ mp3 player next to me. Repetition. Walking commercials for every brand name popular that week, shirts, shoes, mp3 players, sunglasses, the latest mobiles. Who cares if it works it looks good. More money spent on this pricks image than I could earn in a month. WOW he must be loaded bet he’s got a great job! Yeah sure, mummy and daddy probably still give him pocket money whilst he signs on the dole for that extra £88 a fortnight. Repetition. What could be worse? The stupid slappers who fall for these cons artists then complain when they find this carbon copy cheating with yet another ‘wanna be model’ believing her looks will see her through. On and on they drone about how mean he was and how he’s the slag, and yet when another one of these pretty boys turns up flashing the cash their knickers disappear and it all starts again. Repetition. Image, the main agenda pumped into the masses of impressionable morons ready to buy whatever Calvin Klein tells them to, listen to whatever MTV tells them is good and openly mocking any kind of creative or artistic music that could have meaning or emotion behind it. Repetition! 6000bpm written on a pc by a pre-pubescence loser sold over the net and in Ibiza making pilled up ‘party people’ dance like sheep crammed in warehouse. Amazingly when a half way decent piece of music is finally made TV and radio overkill the song till the nation would rather hump a piece of splintered driftwood than listen to its intro. Repetition. The little things? Clichés. Being halfway through a dump and realising there is no bog roll and the house is empty, the only choice is to waddle to the airing cupboard like a drunken Chaplin impressionist. Repetition. Boiled sweets bouncing of the false teeth of your Grandmother who has a moustache you would be proud of as an adolescent. Feeling no remorse for leaving the people who kept you through all your whining in cheap, run down nursing home with abusive staff and worse surroundings. Trains. Never on time. First class never full, standard class standing only. Always being seated next to a drunken yahoo with a faint odour of wet dog. Being ready with plenty of time but still being late thanks to your partner dripping red sauce down the top they just took half an hour to choose. Finally choosing another top then spraying a white deodorant mark on its pits. Repetition. Having a toothache and not being able to leave it alone. Writers block. Being forced through political correctness to listen to an ego on legs talk about themselves just to hear their own voices and make their lives complete. Not being everything I want to be. Repetition!