Drivel, Spit, and Nonsense

I just couldn't stand the kind of drivel and nonsense some assholes say when they open their mouths. Just absolutely incredible. Obvously the info they wanted to share with us must mean something to them, otherwise they would not have said it. Still, I wonder what lurks behind those little minds of theirs. Their areas of interest are so pedestrian and different from mine.

I can't give you specific examples of the drivel and nonsense that concern the assholes but are of no concern to me because frankly I don't want to get into some asinine libel lawsuit. You just have to take my word on this matter, on my "exquisite" tastes and agree with me otherwise I would lump you in the same category with those assholes I denounced. But you probably wonder why I am so fond of denouncing and whether I ever have a moment of peace. The answer is that denouncing others gives me a sense of order, of differentiation, of great use to my search for truth and knowledge. Understand what I try to say? If not, come to see me after class, dumb ass! But at least, you get the assonance, don't you?

Having got here this far, I suddenly remember so many moons ago, I came across Laura's diary pages inadvertently left in her lecture notes. I was struck by the loneliness, of her need to spill out her thoughts on paper. Now it's my turn. How ironic life is. Agnes was no different from her. Last night, I achieved peace by invoking memories of the long gone library where I spent my innocent hours to forget about the war and to struggle with the English language, the library where I met 4Y.

Where am I? Ah, denuciation, thunderous denunciation is a substitute for outright violence. Not very pleasant, but therapeutic as hell. The perfect way not to have a conversation with assholes. They thought that I needed their ears. Well, the fuckers were wrong. I may be profane, uncouth, rude, and crude, but unlike them, I have never been a hypocrite and a poseur full of posturings while the whole world knows they
are shameless cowards who are just plainly animals, trying to hang on life at all costs, without realizing whether a man dies now or twenty years from now means no difference in the overall scheme of things. It is not how long a man lives, but how he lives it. I just don't really
know how those motherfuckers can live with themselves, how they put up with the staggering weight of cognitive dissonance, how to reconcile with the awareness that they are living a life not of humans, but of animals, animals, animals. My contempt for them simmers and lingers till the end of my time and a source for my "eloquence" and my drive for honesty and excellence because I don't be like them at all.
No, sir, not one bit. Like four years ago, one asshole tried to appear to be profound. I didn't understand a fucking thing what he tried to
impress me with. Whether the theory the fucker tried to show off was actually his or he borrowed it without acknowledgement, he didn't say.
He didn't convince nor impress me with his "knowledge". I just don't believe the bastard knows that many languages as he alludes to. It's
humanly impossible. Give me a break. He probably has access to many dictionaries. A true polyglot speaks and writes differently. What a
poseur! That makes me more determined to be true to my words and keep working at what I've bragged that I have some knowledge. One
thing I've learned that in trying hard to impress others, we often degrade ourselves. Another asshole insisted on my giving him respect, but the way he communicated to me showed he was intentionally insolent. You see the irony of the situation? Actually, we should be cool at all times, even when we are angry. You would say, wait a minute, Roberto, you just contradicted yourself. How can a person be cool and angry at the same time? Yes, of course, we can. The next time you find yourself on the verge of getting angry, you just smile first, take a couple of deep breaths, drink a cup of hot aromatic tea, lie down, and close your eyes, and put yourself in the other's shoes and then if you still want to get the load off your chest, pull him aside and talk to him like he was your blood brother. You must talk to him calmly, avoid emotional
words, and listen carefully to his explanations. If you follow what I tell you, you gain respect and probably true friendship from the guy
because you showed to him you were full of understanding and respect for him. If you let your self-righteousness and your stupid sense of
outrage get the better of you, you would be in deep shit and you'd better watch over your shoulder the rest of your fucking life because you
don't really know the guy is a normal dude or just a fucking wacko. I know what I am talking about. I almost got killed by a guy. I was lucky
to escape with only a bullet in the ass. Now you know why I have Preparation H around the house all these years.
(cont.)