I’ve had enough of all-male machocore bullshit bands and of the nonsense that they utter. You’re a sexist if you say sexist things. It’s as simple as that, even if it’s all just a joke to you. And of course, you’re entitled to your bullshit opinions, but I’m not obliged to accept them silently. So, rest assured that I’ll call you out on your shit. It’s not what you choose to believe, it’s what you do that makes you an asshole. I’ve had enough of your boomer mentality, not caring for anything but your own convenience. Our parents fucked the Earth and now deny the consequences. Being selfless for once would be apparently too much to ask. But why would you care anyway when you won’t be around anymore when the shit hits the fan? Rest assured that I’ll call you out on your shit when you act like a selfish prick, when you humiliate and patronise just to boost your self-esteem. We’re all in this together, so the last thing that we need is a bunch of egomaniacs that have never cared for anything but themselves. Let’s care for each other and let’s care for the world. Let’s be compassionate and considerate. There are new things we can learn every day when we embrace diversity and keep an open mind. In a world where you can be anything, be kind.

The truth is people make me uncomfortable, and I never really craved attention for anything I ever did. But here we are, you keep rambling on about things that you deem worth to share your thoughts on while I’m still baffled as to how I got myself into this situation again. They’re so full of themselves that they almost brim over; nothing short of appalling to me. They are the quintessence of everything I hope I’ll never be. They are parading like peacocks, oh ever so charming. To them, we are nothing but freaks because we are flightless birds among a flock of starlings. There is nothing romantic about being unsociable, it just sucks. But if the alternative is being an arrogant prick, then I’d rather pass. Don’t get me wrong, I love to spend my time with people that I care about; but honestly, that list is rather short (and excludes the likes of you). There is little I dread more than small talk and I cannot deny that the mere notion of speaking in front of people sends shivers down my spine. And I’m sorry that I didn’t live up to their expectations and that I simply cannot bear to be around these people. Well, actually, I’m not. They’re just a bunch of posers anyway: aloof, complacent, and self-righteous; they pretend to never make mistakes. And if this shit is only bearable while being hammered, then I’d rather stay at home with you. Because you are not like the rest of them, you keep me on the right track when I muddle through like a total fool or I’m a nervous wreck. You have always been my saviour, my safety net, my tether. Hold my hand and let us be unsociable together.

If you’re afraid, that’s okay because so am I. I’ve never been a hero and feel no shame in admitting it because the maybe not so sad truth is that we’re all idiots at heart. Let’s face it: inside we’re all odd and broken, so come on. You and I, we could dance like the idiots we are and embrace our imperfection, stop disguising who we are, and then be ourselves as if nobody cared because the truth is, no one ever really did. There is no such thing as being flawless. Perfection is an illusion and quite frankly would be rather boring. Let’s allow for the unusual and weird. The maybe not so sad truth is that we’re all idiots at heart. Let’s embrace it: inside we’re all odd and broken, so come on. You and I, we could dance like the idiots we are and embrace our imperfection, stop disguising who we are, and then be ourselves as if the world did not care because the truth is, it never really did.

I’m taking myself way too seriously lately. I haven’t felt well for a while. Could be the cause of my insomnia, maybe. I almost forgot how to smile. So, I get up at 2 o’clock in the morning, grab my journal and scribble down some lines. Remembering the last day that the world was still okay while the rain pounds against my windowpanes. And suddenly, I catch a scent that I had long forgotten: so vaguely familiar yet close to my heart, so dreadfully reminiscent of you. I’ve been restless ever since and numb beyond comparison. Just a callous robotic shell trying to pick up the pieces of whatever is left while pretending to be fine. Because this is so much easier than actually doing anything, easier than facing reality. And I’m so full of doubt that it turns me inside out: this nagging feeling that I could have done more. (But the truth is, it was out of my hands from the start.) And while you burnt like a beacon, I gorged like a seagull. This whole scene reminds me of the North and the Sea. When we promised to never let go of each other, it was a lie in its entirety. But I wasn’t ready, I couldn’t accept it because the truth was unbearable for me. And so I clung to this idiotic romanticised idea and suppressed every thought on the inevitability that all good things will end eventually. And upon realising that there is no forever, I was ruminating on the futility of human endeavour. But these thoughts aren’t helpful whatsoever. So, let’s get back on our feet and get through it together. In sadness and grief, I will be there for you. Let’s leave behind the darkness that we’ve stumbled through. And I know it is scary, but it comes down to this: whatever remains must be bliss.

Raise a glass to the achievements of humankind. Then take a step back and behold the grand traditions of our time, including: slaughtering whales under the guise of science, or simply because you’ve always done it and therefore claim it to be your God-given right; sexual violence, gruesome punishment, and genital mutilation; child marriage and patriarchy; animal fighting and bachelor parties. Oh, your pious heart will find salvation through self-flagellation. And if you’re tired of being sober, get pissed in Munich in October. Nothing is good just because it’s old. Tradition means cultural stalemate. Preserving for the sake of it is neither vital nor judicious, but you can justify the biggest bullshit with safety or tradition. Preposterous superstition, trapped in mindless repetition so they can justify the biggest bullshit with safety or tradition. You’ve got nothing to fear if you’ve got nothing to hide, just abide by our rules and be a dutiful subject. And in return we promise to keep you safe from every vague threat that we can come up with. We divide the world in good and bad, and foster an elusive feeling of constant danger and common mistrust so you’ll swallow everything that we feed you. And then we sell you the means to make you feel safer, and all that we ask for is total transparency, until we control every aspect of your life: what you eat, where you sleep, whom you love, when you shit. Just give us everything we want and bid farewell to your privacy because the whereabouts and business of every person are matters of national security. Surveillance doesn’t keep you safe, it just keeps you in submission, but you can justify the biggest bullshit with safety or tradition. Intuition and cognition replaced by a naïve disposition so they can justify the biggest bullshit with safety or tradition.