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Entry #330

Viscerebral Therapy

10/13/12 by nietzlawe
Updated 10/13/12

VISCEREBRAL THERAPY

I'm definitely brain-damaged, I want to chew your teeth and drink the calcium pulp. Okay, so the next step is rehab, eek, the psychiatrists are worse than me, running the damn place they are. Laughing at their patients A.K.A. us. They have no patience for what they can't understand. They have no patience for what they can understand. Fucking retards. Slouched behind their desks holding their clipboards, making me look like the fool. He's the fool, it may as well be Clark Griswold sat there giving me the evil eye. Oooh he said evil eye, the Illuminati are going to haunt me and flaunt their warez while tearing my skin apart like Pinhead. I'm not afraid of that Chinese Acupuncture gone wrong motherfucker. Pinhead? More like pindick. He's a pindicktive son of a bitch though. It wouldn't surprise me if he was my real uncle. The Unc from Hell, who watches me pee pee like Pee Wee Herman during the nineties. The naughty nineties. Now we're stuck in 2012 like some dumb fucks who can't find the tardis. Kind of retardis if you ask me. "We have to go back Kate!" - "Go back where?" - "To my place Kate, we have to have sex!" If I could go back in time, I'd travel to 2001: A Nietzlawe Odyssey. Things were really happening back then, I didn't need Kickstarter.com to get my life back up and running. It was already running, the days were long and my dick was longer. The nights were warmer, the storms were calmer, I didn't have to kill countless falmer. Jeffrey Dahmer had been locked up for nine years, and all because he was storing heads shoulders knees and toes.. knees and toes, instead of eggs, butter and milk. Well Jeff was ker-razy, he should have been called Jeff Goddamner. But like we were saying, 2001 we were really rolling, literally rolling to the Pac song Picture Me Rollin'. We never worried about the next day, we never had money, not a goddamn penny, we lived an impoverish student life. But it was good, no money no pain. Who needs money when you can go kick a ball for free down at the park. We were young and naive, a man's problems only kick in when he starts work. The student life was relaxing, it was like being in a delightful 4-year coma. Like every nice dream, you have to wake up eventually and face reality. That's why getting drunk is so stupid. But beer helps you to face your fears. But never mind all that. This was a time when we were battling to get into Universities. The next chapter was quite harrowing, leaving those four years behind for pastures new. We were all nobodies from a tiny irrelevant town, University was a big deal to us. People like us just don't get into Universities.. ha, like I said, young and naive. Getting into University was a piece of piss. They demanded that applicants had at least Grade (C) Maths to get on the course. I didn't have Grade (C) Maths, they didn't even ask to see it. I have a Grade (D) in Maths, I'm shit at Maths. But Maths is shit and I tend to do shit at things I find shit, except actual shitting, which I'm pretty good at. It was at that point when it hit home just how meaningless Grades were. I fared much better at English. Give me a spelling test any day of teh weak. The first Semester of University went quite well, I say well, most of it was a drunken blur. I consumed so much alcohol in those first four months of Uni, before Christmas. It was insane. I remember this hot girl Rachael from Manchester pushing her pert breasts against the glass window of her room while we were playing football outside. I remember raiding her fridge for three bell peppers and eating them raw and falling asleep on a floor of scattered beer cans and student soilage. Strange times they were, a completely continual blur. Watching The Office over and over again in the flat, some scouse guy talking about a bad experience of being in Thailand and getting caught out by a ladyboy. That was the year when Arsenal became the invincibles. A lot happened. 2004. Yes. And then. AND THEN! The thunderstorms started. Snap crackle and pop. Times started to become tougher. The alcohol dried up, I made more of an effort to keep up with my coursework after falling miles behind. My mental resilience was phenomenal back in those days, I had such energy, an incredible work ethic, grades meant the world to me, they were the difference between being a nobody and becoming a somebody. Or so I thought. The pressure I put myself under, I was single-handedly carrying the weight of expectation like the weight of my father's death and a sense of having to become a hot shot. So much pressure, so much disappointment for failure. I can't fail, failure is impossible, it doesn't exist in my repertoire. I passed the first year of University with flying colours. The flying colours were probably somebody else's devil weed drifting by. The end of 2004, it was tough getting accommodation that year. In hindsight, it would have been better if I hadn't. There were good and bad times in the second year. I made some good friends, but on the whole, 2005 was a seriously lonely bleak year. Six months of nothingness, I'd have got more enjoyment staring at doctor's surgery posters. The nights were dark, so were the days. The only real time-passer was making music. It was a good feeling just zoning out and recording music, writing some rap material. I took my studies much more seriously in the second year, right from the offset. I was chasing de grades, it was degrading doing so. The motivation was still there.. so was the pressure and tension. I've been under pressure all my life, that's why I think I'll die in my forties or fifties, if I'm lucky. But they say only the good die young. I'm not good, I'm a hasbeen that has been, to hell and back. I'm under pressure from everything and everyone, is it any wonder that my head keeps exploding. These discharges are the only thing keeping me in touch with reality, these aphorisms. Some people think you're just fucking around for teh lulz, but this is my life, my reality. That's why at the end of year two, something had to give. No more University for me, I'd had enough of chasing my tail. I began to cut myself off from everyone, it's easy to be at ease with ones self without anyone else in the way. I reached the point of no return, I craved the tranquility of the nighttime, the only time I could get some peace and quiet, the only time I could cross a road without an impatient driver trying to squash me. I got on much better with nature than I did with people. Most people have become detached from nature and reality, is there any bigger proof than that than the recession? The world falls to pieces just because we have become too reliant on what is essentially printed paper. Everyone is killing and fighting for printed paper. Gone are the days when mankind can survive of it's own accord. We are helpless to this society that we have created, and when it crumbles, we crumble. We have made people fear the alternative to living in a society. We have made money too damn powerful. The pressure of society has disconnected human relationships, nobody has time to have fun anymore. Everybody is too busy working themselves into an early grave. For what? Their children? The same children that will probably die in some meaningless Third World War when the Government see fit to orchestrate one?

One day it's all going to be over for all of us and whatever we've done or tried to do in this world, no matter how evil or noble, it wont matter. So what has it taught me? It's taught me that I'm not brain-damaged, I don't want to chew up teeth and drink the calcium pulp, and I certainly don't belong in this psychiatrist's room. He should be the one coming to see me, my head is screwed on, I should be the psychiatrist, I know what's best for us all. Let me be the President.

You know what, I'm not going to slog my guts out anymore. I'm going to unplug from the every man for himself mentality. The cure is right there, outside. I'm going to walk right out of this door.

Into that sunset.

And never look back.


Comments

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I like Bevvy Base.... when she turns up that bass.

11/4/12 nietzlawe responds:

Too loud, I can't hear myself think.

I think.

.. Not sure really, her big bad bass has had such an impact on my life already. Although I don't know what I'm basing that on..

Except wash basins facin' nine years in a hellhole. I say it's an hellhole, there is no actual proof of that except word of mouth, and word of mouth, as we know, is nothing more than malicious rumour. No facts to back up the act.

Now what the hell was I originally talking about, I seem to have miscalculated the original meaning of the conversation, which was about Bevvy Base, who I have just learned doesn't even exist.

I tried to have sex with Beverly, but I couldn't even manage to get past first bass.

Yee Ha! That's my Bevvy Base joke done for the day.


SinitechSinitech

11/1/12

I like Chevy Chase.

11/1/12 nietzlawe responds:

I like being chased by Clark Griswold, in his chevrolet.


I make a reference to a foo fighters song so close to Halloween and their's yet to be an Dave Ghoul joke?

10/27/12 nietzlawe responds:

Dave Grohl grows all his own pumpkins. Then he eats them and turns into the Pumpkin man, he goes around knocking on doors, asking for money on Halloween. But that money will go towards medical research into turning him back into a human.

It's a cause worth fighting for I say.. in fact, a cause worth Foo Fighting for.


You know... you make me break out. BREAAAAAAK OUT!!! of prison. A zombie prison.

10/26/12 nietzlawe responds:

Nobody escapes from Rob Zombie's prison!!

... Except you.


Zombies my friend... zombies.

10/25/12 nietzlawe responds:

Zombie outbreak, I'd never have guessed it.

Until my third guess.


"Everybody is too busy working themselves into an early grave. For what?"

For dinner!

10/23/12 (Updated 10/23/12) nietzlawe responds:

But if they are working themselves into a early grave.. for dinner, and you are nothing more than bones when inside a grave, then what is the point in eating?

I'll tell you what the point is people!! It's for teh lulz, that's why!

Now people, I suggest you all fucking get lost!!!!!!

... On DVD.

Ah, Lost jokes never get boring.