more jack party

everyone says the same things eventually. that new guy you met... the charming one with insights and panache; he's just like everyone else. just like you are. you're not special. the cute bits of knowledge you get from your t.v. watching, the spiritual epiphanies you discover in your whiskey, all that shit is known already. you aren't new. you aren't special. your theories are dull and retread. your ideas are reiterations and you won't do anything with them anyway. you are like that bunny that bangs the little drum. no brains. no anima. no purpose but to repeat your sad task again and again. everyone says the same things eventually.