Why are you reading this?

Did you think you'd find something here?

Some kind of Enlightenment?

You poor bastard.

I'm not sorry you're here.

But I am sorry you're reading this.

Because I don't know why you're here.

Still reading this.

In the end.

Everything just goes black.

Mad about Goons?

Is that why you're here?

I don't care.

You don't get it if you're mad about it.

And I'm certainly not going to explain it to you.

Because that's part of understanding it.

Either you do.

Or do not.

It's pretty easy to undestand.

Little switch in the mind happens.

And suddenly.

You get it.

Either you are a Goon.

Or you're not.

It's sad if you not.

But if you do?

Then why are you reading this?

Why are you still here?

Because you're not a Goon.

So close.

So far.

Half way everytime.

If we are so bad.

Why are there so many of us?

Maybe.

Just Maybe.

There's something there.

But you're just mad about it.

Instead of trying to bee about it.

You poor bastard you.