Sex and Peanut Butter

I guess I’m still pissed off from yesterday. I feel like if I make any type of post that makes people uncomfortable they won’t bother reading it. Why are my pieces on fu-fu fashion more highly read than thoughts on topics that actually affect us all much more severely? No one will die with the return of the scrunchie, in fact I’m pretty sure we all know more people serving in the military than we know people who actually have succumbed to sporting scrunchies so what’s the deal? Are delusions really that much more pleasant?

I know I like to pretend it’s not happening. It’s not in my backyard. And to be honest all the people I know that are over there I never really liked that much, but I don’t think that’s a good enough reason to be okay with them dying unjustly.

We all have the capability to imagine and create. Our lives should be about the journey of the imagination and the transformation of the imagination into creative outlets. We’ve allowed our social surroundings to be warped by materialism and violence.

Why is a vagina obscene but a blown off head a common visual? Perhaps because we live in a fear-mongering, obsessively puritanical society. Unless the vagina has teeth it’s not a threat, whereas the constant over-stimulation of violence causes us to all subconsciously be scared of our surroundings. It causes many people to yearn and search for materials that avoid the fear, that distract, that are a delusion away from reality.

I enjoy most topics: fashion, sex, violence, peanut butter, aloe vera, whatever. Some times though, I feel as a writer, we need a dose of reality, we need to be moved away from our comfort zone so we can help other people find theirs. Perhaps I’m just being too altruistic. Why the fuck should I care about other people? Probably because in an un-altruistic way, I want other people to care about me.

If we all continue ignoring topics that aren’t fluffy we’re surely going to get flattened.