Sorry I Ruined Your Day
Right. Yossarian is tied up to a fucking chair and I am holding a gun to his fucking face. I look enough like him to take over his life and go about his day to day affairs. We started hanging out a while ago. He likes to write about me and wish he was me so fuck it. Yossarian can die and I will take over. From here on out.What a faggot. I have a loaded gun pointed at his face, and he doesn't even flinch. He looks like he welcomes death. Pussy. I wish he had bought a camera. I'd like to post a picture of his brains splattered across the wall.
In about five seconds Yossarian will no longer breathe. We can all accept it. I am Chad McGreevy and I am very real and very dangerous.
I wouldn't have to kill him if he wasn't such a fucking downer all the time.
In about four seconds Yossarian will no longer pump blood. I am Chad McGreevy and I am not tolerating this shit any longer.
I wouldn't have to kill him if he was capable of making at least on sound decision every 500 years or so.
In about three seconds Yossarian will no longer have a thought in his head. I am Chad McGreevy and I will not listen to him whine again.
I wouldn't have to kill him if he had anything in his life he enjoyed or was looking forward to.
In about two seconds Yossarian will have never known what it was like to get the girl, defeat the bully, win, smile or be content.
I wouldn't have to kill him but he completely fucked his life up with one decision he made, and he keeps making it over and over again because he keeps believing the lie.
In about one second Yossarian will have been a forgotten memory. No one will be surprised or upset when hearing the news. I am Chad McGreevy and I charge the weapon.
I wouldn't have to kill him but he asks me to. Every day he sees me he asks me. That is what he wants. There are things too painful for him to live with, and he met me because God stopped talking to him a long time ago. God wouldn't have killed him. God is too busy developing a new disease man will get from drinking water because worms have been eating the corpses of cancerous bodies for years. Then worms drown in underground water wells. Cigarettes are the plague. Yossarian is dead.
posted by Yossarian at 12:36 PM
2 Comments:
I used to like you chad...but now...since you killed Yossarian, not so much.
You said many things about our friend Yoss that were true, but others that fell far from the truth. Even more than a stone's throw.
Yossarian will not be a forgotten memory. A memory..but never forgotten. I will remember him until someone splatters my brains on the wall.
And I think I am probably not alone in this.
Also, while I didn't know Mr. Yossarian personally, I'm pretty sure he found out what it was like to get the girl, defeat the bully, win, smile and be content. Maybe he never kept the girl he won, or walked away from the bully unscathed or won anything worth winning, or smiled more than fleetingly or was content for more than the length of one blowjob...but at least these things he knew.
Yossarian might have made mistakes. Maybe even mistakes that seemed larger to him towards the end then what they actually were. (Mistakes always seem larger when we are living them)
But we all do this.
If you hadn't of blown his brains out, I think he would have eventually realized, when he turned 33, or 38 or 57 or 74, was that, in fact, these were not mistakes. Just paths chosen. Some shit-filled, some paved, some riddled with bullet holes, but only paths.
All going the same dirt and worm covered direction.
If his brains and bone matter weren't coating some apartment wall in Germany right now, and he was an old, old Yossarian, rocking in a chair, he might've had the chance to reflect on his life, and his shit-filled, bullet-hole ridden, paved and safe paths and come the conclusion that
he would do it all over again,
because all those decisions, every shit-filled, insane, beautiful, full-moon on a foggy night strolling down a suburban sidewalk with the woman you love like you never thought you would one of them...led him to the man he would grow to become....Rocking chair sitting, reflecting.
But too bad he will never be able to. As I know you are a man of your word, so at this point it's probably just an afternoon, scrape, bag and tag party by the German police before they ship him back home to mama.
And I never even got a postcard.
summary
1. having friends
2. accumulating shit so you can sleep with the people you want to
this is life.
chad you've got both...
the dark hair and blue eyes works in the women dept. and you've got shit. running fast doesnt hurt. you can also substitute in benching anything over three hundred pounds.
that is all there is.
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