Byline: Barstool Wisdom

Buford Youthward

Chaos, carnage and beauty converge with desensitized souls left passive, anxious and bored.

Some great truth, some immense bitterness sets in and some settle for something less.

I'd rather refuse than revolt. Embracing the empty, not trying to avoid the void or dismiss the abyss, my rebellion takes shape in the actions I don't take as much as in the actions taken. I fake it until I make it then put it in the oven and bake it.

God has given you and me one face and we make ourselves another. The intellectual fraud and aimless complaint against all pointless conformity is static, neither tragic nor heroic.

The degree of disagreement outlined on the masks worn by all those spitting on the rich, shitting on the powerful is meaningless. Every clique has its claque and that's an iambic fact. Get used to the world no longer being what it was. Who knows what nobody does.

Salvation versus damnation in a cage match for the ages so better shop now and forever hold your peace. It's time to realize with real eyes real lies.

Confusing desire with despair, the doomed are doomed to decay. Their thirst, their sorrow, their sense of spirit, sense of menace isn't permanent.

Baby we were born to burn but not before we suss out the fuss. Certain information creates before and after moments. Decoding the buzz is like singing a secret alphabet.

Loving your memory but hating your company is part of the modern condition. But my conditioning comes from distilling wisdom from a barstool throne.

Finding the question mark of life in just a few words, letters, images, gestures, musical notes. Ah, a complete crisis of conscience for the young, dumb and numb.

The graffiti writer embarks on the journey and asks how to arrive at passivity, anxiety and boredom without inducing chaos, carnage and beauty?

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