This is why nothing gets done.

I love how it takes me five hours to watch a one hour show because I think I recognize that guy and, wait let me Google movies that star a strong Latino barber, but hang on this Mountain Dew is empty and while I’m up we’re out of chips, so I better let the dogs out to pee, oh goddamnit someone vomited and, oh shit now someone else is about to vomit, but I was supposed to clean the bathroom today, and did I finish listening to that Buzzov*en album yet? LOOK, SQUIRREL! I need a nap.

Hey, look, a distraction…

© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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Duties of a Precarious Sentience in the Epic Uncool

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I suspect almost every day that I’m living for nothing, I get depressed and I feel self-destructive and a lot of the time I don’t like myself. What’s more, the proximity of other humans often fills me with overwhelming anxiety, but I also feel that this precarious sentience is all we’ve got and, simplistic as it may seem, it’s a person’s duty to the potentials of his own soul to make the best of it. We’re all stuck on this often miserable earth where life is essentially tragic, but there are glints of beauty and bedrock joy that come shining through from time to precious time to remind anybody who cares to see that there is something higher and larger than ourselves. And I am not talking about your putrefying gods, I am talking about a sense of wonder about life itself and the feeling that there is some redemptive factor you must at least search for until you drop dead of natural causes.

Lester BangsPsychotic Reactions and Carburetor Dung

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The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what you share with someone else when you’re uncool.

Philip Seymour Hoffman as Lester Bangs in Almost Famous

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