One more time, loud as you can, how does it go?
I have no prospects. What does that even mean? I’ve decided to be cheerful about it.
I had no prospects when I was ten, and it didn’t bother me. I had a skateboard and a doll house, and some pens and pencils and toy cars, and that was plenty.
So, just kiss and be happy, is what I say.
Go ride your bike, or have a laugh with your friend,
Or eat some chocolate or some cake,
Or read a book, alone or with a friend,
Just remember to have fun. Prospects don’t matter if you live in the present.
This is a post I wrote before, and I am putting it here now, again, for fun. I liked it the first time, and I like it now.
So don’t you just hate being told what to do? I do. It drives me crazy. I’m really odd about it. I can’t stand being told what to do.
One example which might seem unusual is that I hate those inspirational quotes which say:
Go out there and make the most of your life!
I take it as an accusation and an instruction and I hate both. You can’t tell me what to do, mother f. So don’t even try. How you you know I’m not already making the most of my life, you presumptuous p**ck. So f off, and take your inspiration with you.
I don’t like pushiness. I do not respond well to being pushed.
Another example is that when, say, you are running a race, and people shout encouragement? I really don’t like that. They shout: go on! Keep going!
It drives me insane. It makes me want to sit down in protest, to spite them.
I think it’s a sickness. What do you think? I’m definitely not normal.