The Power of Negative Thinking: A Manifesto In (Roughly) Five Hundred Words
‘Awww, don’t be a hater, maan.’
No? Why not? Negativity happens to be my existential P.F.D. Would you rather me drown in this sea of bullshit where I so often find myself suspended? Would you rather I plaster a chemical smile across my face and pretend as though everything is fine and dandy in this piss-filled wading pool of a life we aimlessly flounder about in, placated with rubber duckies, booze and porn? I shall do no such thing! The day I surrender my negativity is the day I give myself an icepick lobotomy.
Positivity is just another marketing ploy, just another irrelevant remnant of those sell-out hippies who now make up the top ten Fortune 500 Ponzi scheme hall of fame, just another residual stain from the sweaty armpit of entitled, simpering Judeo-Christian claptrap which serves no purpose other than to attempt, in vain, to assign nebulous meaning to an essentially meaningless life fueled by money, celebrity and death when the truth is staring us all in the face; a religion that serves no purpose other than to reassure the average jerkoff that those terrible things they did on the weekend won’t really matter on judgement day — so why not go out and do it all again next weekend without thought-one given to consequences or the myriad horrible potential deaths awaiting us at every turn?
For this is the essence of life: avoiding death. Positivity keeps good old death at arm’s length, convincing us it is the stuff of myth, an anonymous enemy.
Positivity! Ha! Rejoice children!
For it is a virus more virulent than any bird, swine or slug flu. Positivity saps the mind. Positivity is the enemy of critical thinking, the bane of common sense, the great softener of intellectual edge. Positivity is lazy. Positivity sleeps through the alarm then presses snooze for an hour and a half. Positivity gives it up on the first date and makes it burn when you piss.
Positivity needs get itself to yon nunnery.
In case you’ve misunderstood me, let me be clear about this: negativity is the pinnacle of human emotion. It is natural, good and – to quell the fears of the lily-livered among us – not mutually exclusive from morality; negativity does not have to be amoral. In fact, it has absolutely nothing to do with morality, existing as it does on a plane entirely removed from such base concerns. Negativity is an essence.
Negativity is not blood in the streets.
Negativity will make you happy, will make you forget how much of a loser you really are because you’ll be too busy concentrating on the losers all around you — and they’ll be doing the same, all the while envisioning a world where they might be happy. A world much better than that in which we currently hang our collective hat, sweat-stained and dandruff-flecked as it may be.
Negativity is dissatisfaction, the fuel whereby the phoenix gains upward mobility, the stepping stone to self-respect, autonomy and great hair.
Negativity is a pillow: hug it, maan.
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