What more is left to say?

What more can be said? Not much, everything upon everything upon even that everything is all accounted for. All of this has already been said. What I would express would only be just a minuscule rodent on the thought plane of others. At least they didn't whore their ideas to such a feeble jester. Meh, maybe they did, the possibilities are endless and conclusions are vastly rushed...

Reiterations are a plenty, but it isn't the main focus of what I criticize.
Not with this perilously personal piece anyway. I try to excuse it and conclude that it is not a problem. Having a possibility of being a complete fail, or having the possibility to be great in every way. I guess it all is how you conclude on the information that you draw, go figure another reiteration.
I suppose this all makes for a perfect soap opera; I'm sure mid aged housewives would eat it all up. The thought of it doesn't bode well for happy feelings, or bode to lighten the tone of this so-called dreary day. Only surmising to more conclusions, which will most likely not be answerable in my lifetime. Will I forever be bound to this life of free expression, where my expressions aren't even free? Limited by just the thought of other's immaculate form of intelligence.

It matters not how I think of it, it remains to be a gloomy, and to be honest, a quite depressing thought pattern. I see nothing but ill press from it. But there are no paparazzi here, there are no stereotypical pop divas singing melodies about these sorrows. Love, especially just romance, has very little uplifting impact on the weight of an individual' s own world. At best, it only masks the problems to be solved for latter time. If these problems are just put into a hollow bubble, it will eventually burst, with you thrown back from the force of the eruption. No drugs, love, or any distraction in the world will save you from your own mind. From time to time, everything, being extremely rigid in a definition of this everything, your life...appears harmonious, and forgiving; however this is only a facade for how venomous it can truthfully be. There are no metaphorical geniuses in this world, and no one can describe this world, singing words such as perfect, or genuine. Not even these androgynous males could be described in such a manner. They too are left in a state that could be considered quite volatile. Only we are alone in these endeavors. Us and our own encased minds. These pursuits will leave you drained, yet you will search, and lust for this collective catharsis. It becomes almost like a drug after a long period of time. What will you do? What can be done? Stand and watch, as this cage that we have built will come crashing. From within, the hounds will attack at the sight of opposition. A slave driver is too little to ask for when dealing with ravenous animals.

Ahhh inconclusiveness, which is the same result that I return to. So, I ask of you again: What more can be done? That hasn't already been done. Not much, but that is predestined. Forever bound to exceed the expectations of others. How is this fair? Where is your so called sense of justice? Can I not plead a fifth and just cope my way out of this bout? I doubt it.

Life isn't that simple, and neither is this crawling insanity
that society deems as the OFFICIAL concept of success.

No one truly knows what is on most people's minds. Not even I, who jokingly aside, has a good clue as to what the norm is. This unnorm, surprisingly enough, is even unknown to me. I do know of one thing though. What is left of people's conscious self must be a ruin that would almost be unimaginable. Unless there conscious is stronger then the force. Then he will retain what he has never been missing. Making up for his insecurities with but a passion for his own craft. This is probably only on occasion though, and extremely rare. Arising the questions of whether or not being conscious is even plausible at all.

In the end, all we have is bleakness. One that may or may not be heartrending. I suppose it really depends on who you ask. If you ask me my concept of simple facts, this is what I would tell you.

"Life is like a huge game. Every game has its aristocratic, and plebeian pieces. Even though this is completely beyond my values, social class is a huge determining factor in most societies. You must either choose acceptance, or denial. Denial equates to only depression, as you fight against something that capitalism breeds. If you accept it, your role in said game is simply to determine which piece you shall play as. Beyond this simple scope, everything is indeterminable. Fate, or some force will always work against you, but this is only a construct of your mind. Whether something occurs is solely based on your decision, or lack there of. You can either accept this, or live in a depressive state for your entire life. I will choose option A, but option B can be left for the weak. "