Normal — perhaps the shittiest word in Websters.

A trickster. A con. An unusual suspect — Keyser Söze.

A myth. A tale. A spook. A collective projection of our innermost insecurities.


Normal — you don’t fool me.

You fraud. You fake. You phony little fucko.

You sly fox. You snake-oil salesman.

You moral-less merciless bully. You cowardly callus serial-killer.


Normal — the white collar clandestine crusader — riding through town casting plagues on our crops.

You are the poison in my food. The fructose in my syrup. The cancer in my corn-flakes.


Normal — you are an inconspicuous covert terrorist, working for a totalitarianism.

You are the American media mind-fucking my imagination — confining my soul to an invisible concentration camp.


Normal — you keep me ignorant and idiotic — afraid and insecure — isolated and abandoning.

You’re the antithesis of extraordinary — you’re compliance, conformity, and mediocrity — manifested through marriage, religion, and heterosexuality.


Normal — you are social control — a trap — an endless spiral of hope, self-consciousness, and self-hatred.

You are an invisible prison — a collective delusion — nothing more, nothing less, than a mere social construction.


Normal — you are not psychologically stable — you’re a psychopathic subject.

You are the chains of our societal bondage — the fatal fallacy which keeps us hallucinating.


Normal — your three best friends are Santa, the Tooth-Fairy, and the Trix Are for Kids rabbit.


Normal — you are the devil.

And the greatest trick you ever pulled was convincing the world that you exist.


Fuck you, Normal.

Sincerely, Crazy.



{allert} What does normal mean to you? And how’s it holding you back?{/allert}

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