It’s a fantasy goal. Only those who actually get to the 99th percentile understand that it’s all a lie. There’s nothing at the top of the mountain. There’s nothing to do but go down the other side.
I was most confused by this, because I’ve been in the 99th percentile my whole life. From the day I was born, to current day, every test I take is 99th percentile.
This was obvious to me. So, I never could understand why everyone else, the whole of society, was striving so hard to “achieve” that which is essentially jousting with windmills…
You cannot win a fight against something that isn’t there. You’ll be locked in that struggle for your whole life, and die having accomplished nothing, learned nothing, and grown not at all.
This is why I have always been polar-opposed to virtually everyone I’ve known.
I’m going the opposite direction, always, because I’ve already been where everyone is trying to go. I know there’s nothing to see at the top of that mountain. I was born there. It’s boring. Everywhere is what’s interesting.
I’m going down the “other” side of the mountain, while everyone else is trying to climb it. I offer the kind observation “Hey, there’s nothing up there, you’re wasting your time.” Only to be called a loser, unambitious, stupid, weak, etc…
Since so few ever get there, the lesson falls to the wayside. The 99th percentile’s story is drowned out in the thunder of the dumb herd trapped int he center of the bell curve. They deafen themselves in their own stampede.
No raindrop takes responsibility for the flood.
…and I’m the crazy one? I’m not the one trying to slam a revolving door that doesn’t even exist. But, everyone with hate and insults for me, is engaged in a battle of exactly that. The mountainside is littered with half-way ups trying to slam their imaginary revolving doors, declaring me a worthless piece of shit for not doing the same.
If what you want to do is walk up the side of the mountain, just fucking walk up the side of the mountain… It’s not that hard. Inventing a bunch of excuses why it’s someone else’s fault, pretending you’re locked in some epic battle, never making it to the goal… It’s just a cold, windy, pointy rock. Why the fuck do you think there’s any answers up there?
Because it’s the only place you haven’t looked; because you’re unable to get there.
I’ll save you the trouble. There’s no such thing as status. Only a bunch of fucking hateful morons who imagine that status exists, because they’re too incompetent to climb the mountain and see all that nothing with their own eyes. Losers who believe in an elitist, superiority fantasy that they believe they will one day achieve. They keep believing in it because they are unable to disprove it, but desperately need to imagine that they’re better than everybody else and will someday prove it. It’s the opposite of science… The desperate hope, this bizarre need to put everyone else below you… You can’t prove it’s real. But, you can’t disprove it, either. So, there’s hope… Hope that you’ll one day beat everyone else down, be above them, and force them all the bask in the glory as you stand at the top of the pointy, cold, windy rock and look down upon them all with your condescending scowl…
How black is the soul what sees this as a good thing and seeks it out?
If you believe in status, you believe in the tooth fairy. You’re also a very ugly person to view such an insidious figment as desirable or good.
Status is a concept that only exists in the minds of degenerates.
One cannot deny the very large volume of degenerates out there dreaming this hell into existence through their actions… A self-fulfilling paradox. Status is bourne out, conjured as a hamster wheel out of the very minds of those trapped upon it.
I do not belong among them. I am not welcome among them. It’s like trespassing without any intention of trespassing. they all hate me. They all want me dead. I’d be more than happy to leave, if only there were somewhere for me to go…
Have I become Don Quixote for refusing to let what I am die? Is it delusional simply to be alive as a thing that doesn’t belong? I’m already a criminal for existing while white… Are all of the other things I “exist while” also obsolete in a cesspool society? Does it matter if I’m the last person to hold up my pinky while sipping my tea as I sit in pig shit?
Don’t lecture me about manners. You are precisely why I have none, swine. What difference is it to you?
Imagine that, Emily Post with a nose ring… I bet she was a banshee in the sack, all that repression…