Hitting the Ceiling

Run for office? No. I've slept with too many women, I've done too many drugs, and I've been to too many parties." - George Clooney, 50 years old 



During those younger years, everybody has that hallucinogenic nights (or day).
On or off those wilfull substance, both college era junkies and hungry over achievers think alike on the notion of success.
Some high on meth-laced ecstasy delude themselves as future entrepreneurs while others fuelled by constant medal of honors project their self on the highest podium of power.

Then time comes directing the course of fate.
The wind abruptly blows randomly putting fragile pieces of opportunity on either lap.
Claws and fangs start to rattle against each other, breaking humanity and sowing insanity.


That pond has turned into an ocean.
Familiar bright coloured starry eyed fishes are replaced by obscure scary looking fish bombers.
Darwinian natural selection at its finest, indiscrimiantely producing beings akin to the oppressed Jew's that groomed Uncle Sam.
Ruthless, tactical and brilliant creatures born not out of systematic planning nor coincidental sequences but rather due to the cyclical nature of resource competition.

Wise man said: "It's a consequence of reality. It's for the betterment of progress. It's for the promise of hope."
The fool nodded. Went out the woods. Burned the forest. And went for the dying elephants prized ivory.
His next of kin followed suit. Gained respect. Dupe the masses. Owned the village.

Now we all want to achieve conquest.
Julius Cesar, Leonidas of 300, even (d'oh) Prabowo are our generations reference point.
We never had dreams of invading cities, putting crowns on our head or slaving millions under one point of the finger.
It's simply the grandeur posturing, the iceberg sized unconsciousness, the irrational societal measures.

That roof on top of our head.
We want it to be a two story pristine building with couple of helpers, three built-up car and two 24/7 chauffeurs.
That objects on our body.
We demand the latest Airmax for our newborn, classy artsy attire for our ladies and watches we never own but could only pass on for ourself.
That nutrients for the mouth.
We consume unpronounceable items with price tags we flauntingly pronounce.
The perks of entertainment.
We strive for far feetched exotic places, first class airport waiting lounge, topped with luxurious hotels to sleep in.

Then, we self-masturbate in the domain of social media.
Being jerked off by Instagram likes, getting blow jobs for heart icons on Path, and creampie-ing on envious Facebook comments.
PS: Don't forget to bring your close knitted happy looking wife and kids, caption hashtag family hashtag holiday hashtag [insert city or place of interest], put them in one picture frame. Works every single time to add the social media frenzy.


"Here we are now", a common man said, "the ruse of reality, the pain of progress, the herpes of hope."

Note: George Clooney was quoted in 2011. In 2014, he married a women who share his values and life goals. I assume he left the sex rampaged drug fuelled parties that hindered his life-long passion to change things he deemed important to be addressed. There has been rumours that he will run for political office, although the denies the report. Well, dr.  Doug Ross like any other politician, denying the truth and leading people to believe you is a great first step.