Violence is my middle name. In full, my name is Lawrence Violence Johnson, but my friends just call me Larry. ‘Why are you talking to us?’ you might ask. ‘What’s so great about you? Tell us what’s so great about you and try to be succinct. Don’t waste our time now…’
People always say that to me. They always say ‘What’s so great about you?’ And then of course I have no answer. I slink away shamefacedly, knowing that I have been exposed what I am – a person who has nothing great about them. When I try to think about all the great things I have achieved I run dry pretty quickly. I run dry immediately in fact. It’s not that I never wanted to achieve great things – course I did. It’s just that I didn’t.
It’s natural to want to achieve great things, isn’t it? We all want that. We want it so badly. ‘So why didn’t you?’ you might ask. ‘What were you doing all that time? You’ve had long enough to come up with something, some modest achievement at least, in all that time.’ Violence is my middle name it’s true but that doesn’t mean that I’m not a nice guy! A lot of people would say that I’m a nice guy. I’d say said that I’m a nice guy, for the most part. Most of the time, anyway. ‘Nice, not nice, what’s the difference?’ you might say. ‘Who gives a damn? What’s your problem, anyway? What’s your issue?’
I had a fairly normal childhood, all things considered and yet I grew up to be a kind of a misfit, a kind of an oddball, although not too bad. Not too good either though. I hoped to be a success of course the same as anyone might only that isn’t really true, now that I actually get to think about it. I didn’t make any particular effort in any direction so maybe that was a problem for me. Maybe that was my problem. Maybe I should have tried harder. I was busy, as I remember, just as we all are; but in a vague unfocused way. I was always busy doing nothing. That’s probably how come I never made the grade.
What must it feel like to exist, I want sometimes wonder. How great must that be? To exist is the ultimate, of course – not all of us can exist. Only those people who have truly made an exceptional effort, only those who are exceptional in their dedication. The rest of us live in a kind of grey, tasteless soup – ‘the grey tasteless soup of non-existence’, I call it. We swim about listlessly in this soup, feeling very demoralised. That’s our life.
Some people get to be enlightened of course. I tried very hard to be enlightened for many years. I got cramp eventually and had to give it up, although I reckon I could have got somewhere if I had stuck at it. I was probably quite close. That’s a lie really of course, that’s nothing more than sad bullshit – the type of sad bullshit that I’m so very prone to coming out with. The type of sad bullshit that I always come out with.
I used to pretend to be enlightened. I pretended so hard that it almost came true. When other people said enlightened things I used to say enlightened things back. I used to have enlightened conversations late into the night. Those were good days of course. Days never to be repeated. But maybe that’s a lie too. It’s hard to know – so many things are lies, after all. It’s hard to know where the lies ends and the other stuff begins. It’s all just soup really, as I said a while ago. The very finest soup, full of flavour. Only not really.
Then I learned telepathy. That was kind of cool thing. As far as I know most people never learn telepathy, not even the very successful ones, not even the ‘high achievers’. They don’t learn telepathy at all – they are about as telepathic as blocks of wood! They’re lumps. Trapped in their own opaque egos as they are, completely disconnected from the Cosmic Internet, the Internet of the Universal Mind. So that was good. They never thought I’d learn telepathy at school so that’s one in the eye for them! Although that didn’t work out too well for me either, now that I come to think of it.