Treatise installment 1 (sarcastic? i'm not quite sure.)

Thanks addy.

For a long time now I have struggled mightily in even scribbling anything that resembled a worthwhile thought. School has begun again and with it the habitual gripes and usual distractions. School-work which is basically development of that special mental capital to be used later in life for self-indulgent and ambitious pursuits is devoid of all interest to me; save a few tidbits. What then is supposed to be the focus of my energies? Determining that question in the immediate future seems to be the answer, leading to an immense surplus of potential energy that is surely grinding out ulcers in my intestinal tract. I’ve been mulling over the possibility of a quarter-life crisis, if this is indeed that checkpoint. However that prerogative seems to be lacking, since my portfolio isn’t accordingly diversified. Meaning more specifically, I am not qualified. Perhaps an identity crisis more aptly describes my quandary. Yet funks seem to be a forte of mine and that perhaps is my identity. Old timers would tell me to sack up. Luckily my mind forges onward in this dialectical manner. I am free to synthesize and allocate blame as I please, thus allowing me to fault society. I am at liberty to blame “them” for institutionalizing mediocrity and forcing it upon us, but mainly me. I am the product of that unique middle class life cycle producing a generation (person) of premature has-beens and not-quite-there-yets. Absolutely justified in criticizing maniacal coverage of anything marginally scintillating. The general imbecility of society, pundits and proselytizers has developed the most amusing of complexes. One characterized by concentric layers of cynical superiority and debasing inferiority. So to them I say, “fuck you for making me feel better than you but depraved for doing so, all the while empowering me but stifling my capacity.”