i saw a youtube thumbnail and had to write some words

I saw a YouTube thumbnail of some no-name podcaster who had the infamous cloud-brained Silicon Valley faggot Jack Dorsey on his program. The thumbnail is titled “Jack Dorsey on Eating One Meal a Day.” I’m sure some poor, unsuspecting Joe Rogan dickrider saw that and clicked, and though it’d take at least a few more algorithmically fed videos to tip him over the edge, he’d already begun to suck on the flaccid, dried-out mammary of “self-actualization” through restricting one of the few actual pleasures in life: eating. Now, normal people can’t indulge in separate mealtimes without it being a reminder of their poorfag lifestyles.

Is this what the rich and bored do with their lives? Find new ways to create ‘meaning’ now that all their needs are met? Now that they sit on top of that pyramid of the hierarchy of needs, the point firmly crammed up their asshole? Is this why us plebians open up our Steve Jobs squares on our hour-each-way commutes to listen to the latest method of becoming a wholesome, blowjob-worthy person (brought to you by squarespace, ridge wallet—and most importantly blue chew.) Is the path to having this dreadful weight off my shoulders simply limiting myself to three ramens at once rather than three at three different times? If so, I’d rather be bent over from 9-to-5 for the next 40 years, like I am already, submitting to some wilfully ignorant notion that this is as good as it gets, because the other side has rich beanie-clad faggots indulging in a dietary trend in order to lead a healthier, more vapid lifestyle. I work for fucking Oprah. What’s the point of being healthy? Is it truly to be healthier? To live longer? Why spread a vinyl cover over a puke green couch, no one wants to sit on the motherfucker anyway. What’s the point of lying to ourselves, can we all just admit it’s what we do instead of accepting the scientific reality that we can’t add inches to our dicks yet. Even if we could, we’d still have Silicon Valley faggots dribbling out advice that’s as real as their commitment to making the world a better place.

Maybe this is God’s joke—cruel, real, only funny to him. Maybe this unchecked race for ‘being the best possible human’ or whatever bullshit leads nowhere and, despite there being no point to us being here, our only avenue to a semblance of happiness is laughing in the face of our Promethean reality, picking away at our ever regenerating scabs because at least it gives us crazed, caged monkeys something to do. I think God threw his head back and guffaw-laughed in the 40s when we went to war over not being able to accept the nature of his joke on us. Again in the 60s, the 70s, etc. Shit, maybe work does set you free. Maslow is a delusional hippy cock-suck, anyway, and I’d rather enjoy my three fucking meals, thank you very much.