Are we worth it?

So angry all the time, trying to find peace with these rhymes, lying to myself, slowly dying inside, screaming, silently help. Trying to vent this pain is torture, but I don't want to rent this game it's not my scene it's abortion, I guess I'm just fucked twisted up like a contortionist. Being stuck like this is unfortunate, because any view i gain is warped with pain and sordid morbidity. So much truth to project, but hate for this race of well fed clones programmed to keep the floodgates closed, keeps me silent. Till it bubbles up inside and I spew it out like a tyrant dictating false beliefs, like a program being projected to a sea of hopelessness. Words fall on the ears of the 5 sense reality and I'm deemed a strange anomaly, like why wouldn't I want to be one of the crowd? Asleep like sheep, in servitude of the crown? So my opinions get swept aside, truth too hard to stomach rather live out their lives being fed shit like a mushroom. Consumed by the printer friendly version of life, rather die than ever ask the question why. Difference is I won't die till I have all the answers there's a purpose to this life and I'm gonna find it I'm frantic and manic, looking under every rock, hungry for the truth lately I'm famished, distracted by vanity and the illusion of reality. All tricks of the one eyed monster quite demonstrably offering gold and power but instead feeding us hate and sour grapes, making life into a mental state we have to escape from, but it's all too hard, maybe we should just live in the dark as heartless freaks warming our hands around barrels with paedophile priests all the time at the feet of the Marxist elite.