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- Марк Мэнсон
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- Тонкое искусство пофигизма
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- Стр. 28/115
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“
There
’
s
still
something
in
here
.
”
He
picks
up
the
bag
and
starts
feeling
around
the
bottom
of
it
.
For
me
the
room
gets
fuzzy
;
everything
goes
wobbly
.
When
I
was
young
,
I
was
smart
.
I
was
friendly
.
But
I
was
also
a
shithead
.
I
mean
that
in
the
most
loving
way
possible
.
I
was
a
rebellious
,
lying
little
shithead
.
Angry
and
full
of
resentment
.
When
I
was
twelve
,
I
hacked
my
house
’
s
security
system
with
refrigerator
magnets
so
I
could
sneak
out
undetected
in
the
middle
of
the
night
.
My
friend
and
I
would
put
his
mom
’
s
car
in
neutral
and
push
it
into
the
street
so
we
could
drive
around
without
waking
her
up
.
I
would
write
papers
about
abortion
because
I
knew
my
English
teacher
was
a
hardcore
conservative
Christian
.
Another
friend
and
I
stole
cigarettes
from
his
mom
and
sold
them
to
kids
out
behind
the
school
.
And
I
also
cut
a
secret
compartment
into
the
bottom
of
my
backpack
to
hide
my
marijuana
.
That
was
the
same
hidden
compartment
Mr
.
Price
found
after
stepping
on
the
drugs
I
was
hiding
.
I
had
been
lying
.
And
,
as
promised
,
Mr
.
Price
didn
’
t
go
easy
on
me
.
A
few
hours
later
,
like
most
thirteen
-
year
-
olds
handcuffed
in
the
back
of
a
police
car
,
I
thought
my
life
was
over
.
And
I
was
kind
of
right
,
in
a
way
.
My
parents
quarantined
me
at
home
.
I
was
to
have
no
friends
for
the
foreseeable
future
.
Having
been
expelled
from
school
,
I
was
to
be
homeschooled
for
the
rest
of
the
year
.
My
mom
made
me
get
a
haircut
and
threw
out
all
of
my
Marilyn
Manson
and
Metallica
shirts
(
which
,
for
an
adolescent
in
1998
,
was
tantamount
to
being
sentenced
to
death
by
lameness
)
.
My
dad
dragged
me
to
his
office
with
him
in
the
mornings
and
made
me
file
papers
for
hours
on
end
.
Once
homeschooling
was
over
,
I
was
enrolled
in
a
small
,
private
Christian
school
,
where
—
and
this
may
not
surprise
you
—
I
didn
’
t
exactly
fit
in
.
And
just
when
I
had
finally
cleaned
up
my
act
and
turned
in
my
assignments
and
learned
the
value
of
good
clerical
responsibility
,
my
parents
decided
to
get
divorced
.
I
tell
you
all
of
this
only
to
point
out
that
my
adolescence
sucked
donkey
balls
.
I
lost
all
of
my
friends
,
my
community
,
my
legal
rights
,
and
my
family
within
the
span
of
about
nine
months
.
My
therapist
in
my
twenties
would
later
call
this
“
some
real
traumatic
shit
,
”
and
I
would
spend
the
next
decade
-
and
-
change
working
on
unraveling
it
and
becoming
less
of
a
self
-
absorbed
,
entitled
little
prick
.
The
problem
with
my
home
life
back
then
was
not
all
of
the
horrible
things
that
were
said
or
done
;
rather
,
it
was
all
of
the
horrible
things
that
needed
to
be
said
and
done
but
weren
’
t
.
My
family
stonewalls
the
way
Warren
Buffett
makes
money
or
Jenna
Jameson
fucks
:
we
’
re
champions
at
it
.
The
house
could
have
been
burning
down
around
us
and
it
would
have
been
met
with
,
“
Oh
no
,
everything
’
s
fine
.
A
tad
warm
in
here
,
perhaps
—
but
really
,
everything
’
s
fine
.
”
