Never roar with a hollow voice.

So the scene, the other night, my son, having that early adulthood woe-is-me anguish, battling from within the fish bowl of self-devouring futility and hopelessness. In which you’re prone to say really stupid shit. All of us. We’ve been powerless and emotional and emotional. Woe is me. Life. Death has to be better.

Yada yada.

I’m no New Age POS cuck father flailing desperately to garner modernist kudos for passive intervention and nicey-talk. I’ll leave that up to the rest of the gobbledygook-spouting parents. Fuck that.

My weapon is wit, and my armor, pathetic irony.

Yeah, life sucks. I do agree.

That is what makes life special. That’s why this glimmer of the spotlight we share for a few decades in the infinite whirls of space-time are so precious and unique and unrepeatable and unprecedented. Never before, never again, so are you. So am I.

I told my son yeah, it’s fine, welcome to the club.

I dove into despair with relish. When I was 20, even 17.

I hated with a fury, despised myself with all the might I could muster. I wanted the world dead.

Some men want to watch the world burn, baby. Some men never stop. That was me. Scorch this fucking rock to the bone, everyone on it. I don’t care your religion, your gender, you fetishes, your lifestyle proclivities, fuck you. In my anguish, I thought you could all die and I would not give one stinking shit. I hated it all. I sank so deep that the sky seemed but a glimmer of a fleeting, powdery dream.

I grew up. We all must.

You grow up and find an inner drive, a locus of strength within those trembling, weak bowels and roar mightily for no reason other than just because.

Never roar because society tells you you must; don’t roar to impress others with your cacophony. Don’t roar to stoke the embers of fear and intimidation in others. They do not matter.

Roar because you must and because you thrive on your animal spirit.

But ultimately, embrace the futility. You must find a cause in life and mine was misery and despair. These were the lifeblood of my existence. I found succor in grievance, energy is animosity. I reveled in the harsh tides of human nature. I wallowed in the fierce uncompromising cruelty of a life that would never hand me what I expected was righteously my own

Fuck you.

I learned to embrace the pain, the misery, I harnessed it for my own persistence and resilience. As Suicidal Tendencies told us, you can knock me down, but you can’t knock me out. To life I said, “I will embrace your demise, but in so doing, render your manipulations powerless, moot. I will step into your world of dishonor, live it, breathe it, and defeat you by being one, with you. With the agony, with the disrepute. I defeated you.”