Life is exhausting.
It just isn’t what you expect it to be.
And there is no way to
prepare yourself for it.
You just have to jump in,
head first, or you get pushed in,
is probably the more accurate reality of it all.
I feel like All of the ideas and preconceptions about everything
have been swept away by the wind and the water,
and what is left over is what life is.
You’re treading water, just to stay alive.
I guess sometimes you could float on your back.
So what do you do?
You can only just focus on the things you can get that you want.
Scrape together those moments of beautiful perfection and nothingness,
and revel in them.
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.