A gooey flytrap where the heart is supposed to be.
Hey dipshits, if you want me/anyone not bullshit to believe you care/feel inspired by the book you're posing with, actually emote in the picture. Real apathy/depression looks much different than your needy do-you-like-me fake-ass sadness.
Candid camera style show where needy, middle-age women are video taped drinking wine in public venues, then forced to rewatch their behavior/be interrogated by a disgusted host in front of a live studio audience.
Enjoy the truth like the glow of an orgasm face.
The increasing feeling of sleeplessness the more you sleep.
I've heard an idea repeated over the years, it goes something like 'competitiveness is an amicable trait remaining from (our) animalistic days.' It's used nearly exclusively to excuse flagrantly selfish behavior. Which is a fucking silly thing to do, I think.
People are too cowardly to admit fault and feel compelled to shelter their precious ego by perverting reality. This behavior isn't competitition. Deeming it as such doesn't manifest it as truth.
Honestly, the only authentic competition is with death. We compete to exist, survive, and procreate. That's it. Like all animals.
In our coddled reality of modern convenience, there isn't much of a reason to compete. Death is barely palpable. We exist in abundant frivolity.
When people cite 'competitiveness' they're referencing the behavior of a dysfunctional ego rooted deeply in insecurity. It's an altered state of consciousness; a place of habitual perceived/created threats, where selfishness is god.
Sharing psychological residence with an insatiable monster that hungers to perpetually be first, have the most, get the best, achieve perfection, etc. is detrimental. It invalidates the feelings/achievements/worth of others and often the perpetuator themselves; because the monster doesn't allow a person to fully be present of their action---it's always focusing toward future threats and trophies, while not genuinely appreciating what it has and ensuring no other person in proximity can appreciate anything.
It's the same energy motivating wars, famine, genocide, poverty, jealousy, depression, trample deaths on black friday, passive-aggressive comments about another person's genitalia, $7 waters, lip syncing, the xbox one, and a seemingly unending litany of negative behaviors, feelings, and actions.
I'm a strong proponent of individuality and its variance. I think people can do whatever the fuck they want as long as it's consensual. I don't necessarily like everyone's decisions though.
I want the 'competitive' people--and their enablers--to realize we're all racing to the same permanent nothingness/everythingness, regardless of the number of awards, records, or conquests acquired.
And as the ticker tape of the finish line approaches, there will be laughter; but it won't be your own. It'll emanate from those who appreciated life like seaweed drifting in the ocean.
And all you will hear is judgement.
A final lullaby of overwhelming terror where you'll realize an entire life achieved nothing meaningful; and despite the numerous actions of immense selfishness to prove otherwise, you're not, or ever will be, more important than a petrified turd from an extinct animal never discovered.
You manipulate, hoard, steal, lie, backstab, subvert, bully, slander, and apple polish because you're weak; and too afraid to progress to a place of strength. It's a choice, not a competition.
Feeling spiritually aligned with a pool filter clogged with drowned june bugs.
Guessing men who trim their beards have the same thoughts as men who shave their balls.
Shopping for/buying electronics while in the company of another culture can potentially turn anyone into a genocidal asshole.
The almost unrecoverable sadness from witnessing a couple arguing inside a parked prius, with the man sitting bitch on the passenger side, the woman sideways in her seat using hands to dramatically emphasize an obviously nagging demand, and between them a lone box of kleenex, with a tissue in the chamber and sticking straight up as if a few rounds had already been fired off.
People who misinterpret narcissism as confidence, then become overwhelmed with astonishment at the shitty relationship they're in.
Now that the light dust of AWP has settled, let's talk abysmal amatory conquest! I honestly want to hear, in detail, about the drunken missionary intercourse and overzealous do-you-like-me blow jobs had by all.