Dear Losers of the World

Dear Losers of the World,

I hear you. I see you. I connect with you and all the mess you've created on this earth. All the mess you expect others to clear away for you. Dear Losers. I feel the pain of your anguish - that anguish, that dread that knows, without even looking in the mirror, that it was all done by YOU. All of it. All of it. Not a single other. Not a single wee tiny little mouse. All of it was done by YOU. 

And because of that, you're kinda feeling loser-ly tonight. You're kinda feeling like all confused, and hurt, because you can't make sense of the guilt, that gnawing, attacking, insulting, totally not-pc GUILT! When you feel like that, you feel helpless. You feel sorry for yourself and then you can feel the power within you slipping away - actually the power just kind of starts vanishing in the thick of it, in the thick of the unconscionable but in the thick of discovering the unconscionable which then becomes conscious to you. It becomes so real. Too real. And you can't escape the discomfort of it all. 

So, you try to scratch it out of you, to slit the skin so the poison burns your fragile exterior as it pours out with singular uncompromising speed, you do everything you can, that's within your power, which is actually no longer power, but sickening self-pity instead that will further devastate and deviate from what you were initially brought somewhere to do.

Dear Losers, I know your life, my life, are fragile webs and they can't always hold the impact of all the wrath we fling this way and that way like the steel blades of a hurricane slicing through hope, faith, peace, love, whatever. I know that in this experience of deep loser-li-ness, as you think thoughts of offing your putrid selves for the benefit of all Humxnkind and for the sake of the Animals who will no longer be murdered just to feed you, for the sake of every being. It is better to lose your life than the world having to lose the lives of so many others.

So, in that experience, in that moment when it's too late, when you've lost your life (could be both literally and figuretively), I want you to feel pride for having done what you did. For having the guts to go without a bang. For letting the world find out gradually that you are no longer with us. 

Because that's just what losers must do. They must off themselves and hope to the Almighty-master-fear-monger-himself-herself-their-selves that where their souls are heading/headed is a place where such worries are never entertained. And so, my dear Losers, you will find great peace in death. Great riches none like here on Earth. Great moments of joy and wonder, never fear or danger.

And I wonder, Dear Losers, what that would be like.