Whenever I open Twitter to see what the people are saying, I end up feeling like the kid who showed up late to the meth smoking session and didn’t bring his own stash. Everyone is already knee deep in a conversation or three and most of the time it’s the act of yapping that is as important as the content itself. In the past, I would have quietly grabbed a pipe from a sunken-cheeked, yellow-toothed white boy and taken a couple puffs, waited for that body buzz to rise up through my balls into my chest and wiggle its way into the space between eye socket and cranium and then sat and jabbered along with everyone else.
But I just don’t feel it anymore. So instead I say what I really think about it all and anyone who’s anyone knows you never do that. Talk about being ostracized in a heartbeat. Addicts hate nothing more than a clean kid talking about … well anything actually. We could turn it all around too, just for arguments sake. I am the addict and they are the clean ones, I walk into a room of grown ups having a grown up discussion about whether or not CCTV will announce that Bo Xilai has been stripped of his posts and then I say something like: anyone else feel like this is a waste of time?
Update: Not a waste of time when MURDER is involved, police determine Heywood was murdered, Gu Kailai a suspect. (via the heads)
There is irreverance and I thank God for the Relevant Organs, who seem to recognize the farce that this all is, even as the pipeheads retweet everything they say.
Writing this may be akin to shooting myself in the face by the way. Only reason I got on Twitter was cuz I thought I “had to be in the conversation” in order to get my China Watcher street cred. The irony is, of course, that I am not in the conversation really, so this blog is off the radar. I can say whatever the f**k I please and the pipes won’t notice.
Even if I really want them too.