My Farts Stink: A Ranting Opinion

I sit down to write. I opened the blank page… I fart. I sit. I sat some more. I am just sitting here writing this as I catch my own scent wafting from the trapped air in my clothes where the stink slowly dissipates into the air. It’s funny how they always say that we like our own smell. I do find it more reliable than anyone else’s farts. I mean, I sit here and I am not off-put or trying to get away. No, I start to think about what it was I ate that caused this, and what this could mean to me and my guts. But how many people put the extra effort into themselves? How many of us get an upset stomach, daily diarrhea, or smelly feet and want to know what it is?

Sometimes, I think that I was a kid with overly dulled senses. I didn’t know how to properly brush my teeth until I was 20. It took me years to learn that when I shave my face, I needed to do it with the lay of my hair if I didn’t want to get razor burn or painful ingrown hairs. I still wipe my ass from back to front, and I probably will until I die. I only started tweaking and thinking about what I could be missing in my every day around the age of 30. Before then, I must have just been plain ignorant. I ate as much meat as I could, I wanted to have muscles and nothing beats meat. I often drank several cans of soda a day, a habit I picked up from the mountains of soda my parents would buy when it went on sale at the store. I had no sense of sensibility when it came to food and I developed a very unhealthy relationship with it at a young age. To put it into perspective, I currently wear just one pant size larger than when I was 8 years old, and I am still a bit on the fluffy side. I had no clue what I was doing, and neither did my parents obviously.

Here and now there are so many things I would teach my younger self. Like how to truly care about people. How to love someone unconditionally, How to take care of oneself, and that I was worthy of love. Many of these things I still struggle with today. I don’t often love myself. I don’t feel I deserve love and shy away from praise. I don’t trust people, and I always feel like someday the people I love will end up betraying me or growing out of touch. For that, I have a shell.

To say that my farts stink is probably the least of my problems. In hindsight, it was probably the sugar from the cookies I ate and the hot sauce I doused my lunch in. The cookies were a good idea but the hot sauce is kind of an addiction. Again, not really a biggie considering that I am also a functioning alcoholic that has been telling myself for years that when I finally hit the end of what little money I made in my 20’s as a heartless Financial Industries worker, I would kill myself. To be honest, that time is coming fast and I will likely be penniless and indebted by year-end as I continue to spend my way to maxing out my credit card and will have to leave my apartment soon because I can’t pay the bills. I’m not looking for pity and I most certainly don´t welcome everyone´s comments on how I could go work as a barman or a server in a restaurant, because I probably won’t do it for the slave wages they offer here in Spain. I would rather give my time volunteering and working on stupid sewing projects or growing a garden until whatever inevitable thing happens. I much prefer to spend what little time I may have left doing something worth it, and not bringing another fucking Northern European his fucking vermouth as he gets ready for a big, coke-filled night out in the clubs trying to find a girl to suck on his limp, coked-out dick. No… I don’t want to spend the last of my time working for Amazon, selling everyone anything and treating people like the very objects it heartlessly sells for the cheapest price. If we don’t have to kill the poor with our bare hands, it just doesn’t matter, right? Hell, we don’t even know how to kill a cow, a fish, or anything else before we only consume the best parts, leaving the rest for whatever science was able to synthesize from it. That is before we wrap that shit in plastic and sell it off to the next sucker… Grade A Capitalism!

Yeah, my farts stink, but much of what I see and understand about this world does too. People continue to run around wasting complacent lives when global warming and climate change threaten to wipe out most of the rest of life on earth. I can’t take a hike without finding trash everywhere. I can’t buy a pair of pants without paying more money than I have or exploiting someone in some socially disadvantaged country with small agile hands, and little regulation on child labor. I can’t stop paying taxes without being scrutinized or sent to jail. I can’t even teach Chinese children English without some government body telling willing participating parties that they can’t seek education.

My farts stink but society is a sewage dump. We thrive on Instagram and Facebook and staring at others and hating ourselves all while avoiding real experiences and lessons learned from doing something for the adventure of it. I have a love-hate relationship with photos. Sure they capture a moment or a landscape and can be as beautiful and inspiring as anything but even those can be faked. Faked confidence, faked correctness, faked lives, faked cool, faked interest, faked friendships. It’s the great reality of fake things online!

Do you think I’m being too pessimistic? Well, you should probably go fuck yourself! I shouldn’t care what you think. I may still care, but I’m probably being overly sensitive. Why do we always have to be so fucking positive? When I look around all I see is some form of slavery and people with more problems than my own. They seem stuck and complacent in a system that continues to allow them to be manipulated, exploited, and without any sight of true equality. Still, they trudge along and slog away with their fellow employees for pay. I don’t want to have children because I can’t even imagine the kind of future they would have. I don’t want to be a billionaire or make money off of old people or young people, or black people, and anyone really. In fact, I don’t want to sell anyone a god-damn thing. Let’s get this part straight… I love to work hard. I love to help people, teach children, or make food for those I love. I am smart and able and willing and want to help! I want to live a life worth living. I want to do great things! I want to change the world or at least leave it in a better place than I found it. I want equality for all, sustainability, and respect for our environment. I want everyone to pull their heads out of the google cloud asses and think altruistically. I want a future I can believe in. In our place in time and space, I wonder why with all this technology, why can’t all have access to food, health care, education, a safe place to live, and a reason to want to make this world a better place for everyone.

I want us to be able to question our lives and choices. Learn from our mistakes and those of others. I want everyone to ask themselves if there is an imbalance in life or a change they could make to improve an aspect of their own lives. I want that we all stop serving the rich because of trickle-down economics and looking down on poor people while casting doubt on their work ethic or abilities. Rich people´s farts are the stinkiest of all! They spread their stinky opinions on the economy, on how to get ahead in life and become as famous as they did by exploiting others. Why the hell should we ever have to know what Elon Musk thinks about Johnny Depp´s divorce? Or the advice from any billionaire for that matter. A billionaire is a human parasite. They take and exploit others to a point of pointlessness, while people can’t afford even basic needs. But that’s ok because they are just following the law, right? We treat these parasites with too much respect. We act as if only rich and famous people deserve an opinion because they did it all themselves. As a society, we remain so focused on other people and their fake personas that we fail to look inward at what would make us happier or healthier. We are constantly supplied with sensationalism until our very own experience is dulled and we are lulled back to work.

I just want to hit the eject button. I want to stop and have the freedom to choose again. To feel secure and safe and have the energy to wake up and help in my own way without being sold to or selling something. But, I don’t see it happening. I walk the streets of the city. I see the capitalist machine churning profits. I read about the stupid opinions of the rich and famous on things that don’t matter. And I stare at my so-called friends’ photos before I go to sleep at night. Technology is great! I am so thankful for my two-week vacation a year, and I can’t wait to take that next amazing beach photo of me and my hot girlfriend at Barceloneta Beach tomorrow after I buy a bunch of cheap clothes from all the chain stores on the Rambla. OMG vacay ROCKS and my farts definitely don’t STINK!