The Destroyer of Worlds

Things are in upheaval lately.
There's a need to dispel confusion, for that's what it's been for me mostly; some friends were not so lucky, health problems, injury. Myself I've been fine actually, but getting disproportionately affected by, well, bullshit.

So this guy at the gym today asked me why I'd been doing my treadmill sprints "uphill", and I told him about that 10/10 treadmill challenge (10 mph at 10% incline) where it said if you do under a minute you're a rookie, at least a minute you're a pro athlete, and 2 minutes you're an all-star. How ashamed I've been that despite practicing for a long time now I still didn't even crack the 1 minute mark. And then this guy says, "but you're not a professional." So I am NOT a pro athlete - seriously, WTF??!!!
"What am I, then?" I asked. In the end he said, "Ok, I'll better shut up now." Yeah, a bit late sadly. No idea about this guy, he always seems friendly, but only yesterday I met him and he asked, "Did you lose a lot of weight?" I may not be as perfectly ripped as I'd like to be, but I'd think I got less than a kilogram of body fat left, meaning if I lost a lot of weight I'd require euthanasia since it's all muscle mass and I sure can't afford losing any of that. But so, apparently I'm not a pro athlete but just some fat pig who needs to lose a lot of weight but goes to the gym "only as a hobby", as he suggested.
Hobby - my ass! I found this extremely insulting.

But it's just some bullshit, and it's even more bullshit to feel depressed about it. Anyway, I already hate that word "feel"... it's something that should be avoided, it usually only causes needless trouble. Which is why it's better to simply be a war machine.
All cold steel, I shit bullets...

But when I start that "feeling" bullshit... it's the very thing put into question.
I can brag like a dozen drunk sailors, like 10 dozen drunk sailors, like 10 battalions of drunk sailors...
But can I ever really be good enough?
With what little time I got left.

Yesterday I got into a different argument with the friend of a friend, that one about religion. That girl was showing her tattoos and so I showed mine, including the one on the inside of my forearm that I made myself as a kid, the "SATAN" one. She laughed at that one!
I'm bad at talking to people, for too little practice. Writing has always come to me much easier. We kind of sorted it though. But I had to think about how problematic these kind of people are, who can't take anything seriously, disrespectful even of things that are sacred.
And then I realized why that is, and how it may be best confronted.
Look them in the eye and tell them the truth:

You are too scared to face the fact that you'll die!
This is why you're trying to make a joke of everything. In fact you're dying right now, in a long, slow process that has already been set in motion, that was predetermined from birth.
We're all doomed by the Second Law of Thermodynamics.
Entropy is relentless.
And maybe everything's just going to shit.
You can pretend it's not happening, but only for so long.

The only thing you can possibly hold against this is the conscious act of becoming.
This ephemeral incarnation is your chance to do this. It's what I must do.
This is exactly the reason why it's said that you ought to be careful what you wish for. I was really told so, or read it somewhere, I don't remember where I first heard it.
Express what you are, and your true will and intent.
What I truly desire...
TRANSCENDENCE.

If I had to choose one song to represent me, this one would make for a perfect choice.