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Nihilistic Transcendence

by Acidgoat



Being taken advantage of and sabotaging friendships can be both draining and life transforming. Leaving people behind who you used to spend so much time with, but also being the recipient of it can either make you into a full-fledged misanthrope or born again hermit. Sometimes you can sense the lingering betrayal about to be inflicted on you, but maybe you also harbor passive-aggressive measures for shedding close relations with people not worthy of such intimacies anymore. It’s better to just shut the fuck up and focus on your own work and property. Nobody gives a shit about you anyway, except for the future spawned maggots that will help clean away your physical body.

Identifying with filmic and literary loners can be life affirming. At least we aren’t the only miserable son of a bitches out there in the world. Taking stock of the type of people that inhabit our daily lives can certainly place us in more than just an existential amusement park of horrors. It can also allow each and every one us to redeem ourselves from past fuckups. Even if resorting to a mourning period for our lost comrades will last years or even a lifetime of regret, just remember that being left alone at least will enable the consciousness to be rejuvenated with a clearer and cleaner inner focus.

Wasting your own life by hanging with toxic fellows and people who are jealous of your unique traits will make you rot faster than a can of sardines in the most oily summer conditions. The inability to not trust even your closest allies is just goddamn proof that everybody is expendable and not worth caring about, even in sickness. Of course, you might feel guilty for pushing assholic behavior around to the masses, but you also can attempt to conceal to your backstabbers your true motives. Displaying that you don’t care anymore, that the whole precious time you spent together was a fluke of friendly delusions is a suicidal antidote to acting like you truly are empathetic with a twist of spite.

Contradicting loved ones motives is what makes us just want to just hide from every living thing that’s able to speak the same languages as we do. Feeling like a piece of shit and seeking blissful solitude after wrecking our lives with the type of souls who get off on our failings is what prevents us from being another textbook example of psychotic transcendence. Skeptical about anything tenderhearted, the loser continues banging their bollocks against streams of treelined ghouls who offer nothing exemplary except ordinary misgivings.

Public hearings about consequential misjudgments, this is the right type of coincidence for fool-hearted idiots who trust too much with their maladjusted hearts. Every action we might take, another person does the same exact thing somewhere else in sync; and we end up punishing ourselves for eternity during those callous sleepless nights. Inflicting peace on our egos, we decide it’s high time to run away from everyone we ever knew. No chance of sorrow, no looking back with mixed feelings, we decide from then on that whoever hurt us previously is better off forgotten and thought of as a bad omen.

Nightmarish reconciliations amount to numerous more years and decades of dragging on relations that should’ve expired eons ago. It’s a clusterfuck catastrophe, and nobody is laughing harder than your numbfuck ambitions to finally having a millisecond of control over your life. Try not caring anymore about anything pseudo important and you finally experience heaven. Shitstained past glorious trigger sad sacks everyday to either start a nasty drug habit or become a spokesperson for the NRA’s self-seeking genocide. The basis of self-help is to relinquish stupid patterns of social heresy, but you gotta be above that and think of smarter strategies of fucking over your opponent.

Solitary pleasures are definitely more holy than spending your precious mediation time inside of a sanctuary devoted to unjust saints. The weary-eyed dufuses who preach melancholic rights of passage are more justly satanic than your garden variety soothsayer. Nobody can see through the mists formulating out of their own mercurial headspace, but pray that something bitterly horrible will happen to all of us sooner than later. So, please go fuck yourself, all of us!


released July 26, 2019
Copyright 2019 Meshuna Music, Inc.


all rights reserved



Acidgoat New York

Founder of music publishing company, Meshuna Music, Inc, Devoted to sound design and compositions that could possibly be utilized for film/tv soundtracks, video games and gallery installations.

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