BETTER DEAD THAN…

Published on: November 26th, 2006 | Last updated: November 25, 2015 | Written by: Bad Guy Joe

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There comes a time in one’s life where you simply need to go on solo missions.

Maybe you need to get the fuck away from friends, family and drama. You need to get away from the overbearing job, or the psychotic lunatic bitch who crosses state lines and shows up at your door at all hours crying about how life isn’t fair and only you can save her. You need to get away from the friendemy backstabbers who were never worth your trust or your time. There’s a lot of reasons to go underground. The inherit dangers of potential death and arrest just plain don’t matter one bit when you’re sick of it all.

No Need To Listen
Those who run subway tunnels were the kids that wouldn’t listen. We all already knew it all anyway, and society offers up nothing of value. TV? A career? Marriage, kids, softball and stupid mandatory drinks after work? What the fuck is that shit?

Be Cool
Maybe you’re just better off dead? Or maybe that 9 to 5 normal life bullshit just isn’t for you. Maybe a life spent underground is far better?

I mean look at all these cool kids tagging up down here. You might be on a solo mission this night, but half these guys tagging up were doing the same damned thing. Fame over friends? Immortality via getting up where your tag will last for decades?

Meck / Len

Pace, F5

XSoup, PinkSmith

Trip

Save No One

I was once one of those people who thought he could save everyone from their problems. Tunnels helped me get over that problem. Back in the day you’d run into people down here who clearly needed to kick their bad habits – homeless people on drugs mostly. After meeting one too many people in love with the H you’ll lose any notion that anyone can save anyone other than themselves.

Allowing exploiters to take advantage of me was a problem. Tunnels were my therapy. When you can’t be found, no one can ask you for just 5 more dollars, or to let you crash on their couch because their fake explorer “friends” ditched them, again. You can’t answer emails from jive talking pretend-friends who only hang out with you so they can learn everything you know and use it to further themselves without ever giving an ounce of credit. I mean really? You’re going to start lying to me about really petty nonsense and think I’m going to accept that? You lie once, and everything out of your mouth becomes pablum. Spit that shit down your toilet cuz I ain’t listening.

Time
Sometimes you’re down here in these tunnels for so long, time disappears. Minutes turn to hours, night gives way to day that gives way to night again.

How do I get out of here? Do I want to bother? Am I better off dead?

New York Above
And what’s waiting for you when you do decided to leave?

Operation “Lucky Bag” – google it if you don’t know

Cops, trying to get you. For what?

For the quota. For the cred. For the overtime cash. “Collars for dollars”.

This is what life is all about. If you don’t get busy doing something interesting, there’s someone out there with a plan for you – and I can guarantee you their plan is not in your best interest. They want everything you have, right down to your stinky socks. They want to show up at your door at 5AM and they want you to be naive enough to let them in. They want you to give them just $5 – 5 dollars and they will kick the heroin habit and come back to you.

And if you don’t, they’re going to craft ridiculous stories about you. They’re going to make it sound like you’re the villain. You, with no intent to harm anyone. Now ignorant motherfuckers are throwing shade at you. Strangers think you’re the devil – that you caused all this shit. This is what happens when you’re too distracted by the bullshit to follow the 5th law of power – and I’ll never not defend my reputation again.

I’m right here bitch ass haters. You fucking failed. Keep talking shit. Tell everyone you fucking know whatever the fuck you want. Don’t forget to tell them how I fucked with your head so much you drove your car into oncoming traffic. I don’t need to fucking kill you – you’ll kill yourself. You’ll realize you’re better off fucking dead.

Reject Society
The only way to fend off all this bullshit in life is to just say no. Reject anything that stinks of it. Reject anyone who excuses it or engages it in. You hang out with a snitch? Guess what – you’re a fucking snitch now too. Blocked, cut off. Lose my number – or better still, let me change it so you don’t have a fucking choice.

Reject everything wrong with society, and fight like fucking hell to live the pure life you believe in. Don’t let the bastards drag you down, or create a false narrative about you.

Everybody wants something. Give or reject? What are their motives? And if you can’t answer that, why the fuck are you talking to that person anyway?

Life is all about rejecting all the bullshit, and only embracing the best it has to offer.

If you’re not 100% with me, get the fuck out of my face. You’re fucking better off dead to me.

Epilogue
There were a lot of dark days back when these photos were taken. I was tunneling all night, sleeping all day, and hating absolutely everyone and everything. It was the literally darkest of dark, before the dawn. I’ve come through with a clarity of self and purpose I never had before. For those who wander tunnels aren’t lost – we’re just finding ourselves. Finding our will to fight. Finding our strength and never looking back.

Comments

NOTE: It sometimes takes a short while for comments to be approved - unfortunately there's a lot of spam comments that come in. I absolutely love when y'all share personal stories of friends relatives etc who worked in these places. It really helps capture what these places were like before they closed up shop.

If you're feeling salty, argumentative comments completely devoid of facts (supply links to support your argument) will not be published. Got a case to state? come with the details.

One response to “BETTER DEAD THAN…”

1. Cops says:

   June 22, 2022 at 10:24 AM

   I go back to this every day.

   It’s been too long.

   Time to run.

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