I haven't written anything in here for 2 days (Bones Time or BT) and if I put it off again it could start a viscous downward spiral of procrastination. I convinced myself into writing this by goading me with wine. I told me that I would only give me wine if I sat down and wrote this for me. So here I am, slowly getting sloppy wine drunk and behind the wheel of a computer. Nothing says "rebel" like drunken blogging.
I've recently discovered a few of my readers. Yes, YOU. (that was weird, wasn't it?) You're good people so I'll stop eschewing pure hatred in your direction... for now.
I forgot what I was going to say...
So I'll say this:
Sometimes I like to leave notes for my future self. Like a time capsule of personality. Sometimes future me forgets what it was like to be present me and he can use a reminder because he's a forgetful bastard. You should also do this. It's fun and you can't go back and do it again, so the first time is like all you got. Don't blame me if ten years from now you wish you had a cute letter form yourself at this age. You have been warned.
Idk what else to say. Someone gave me a good idea to write something about doing drugs in space. That's a good idea. it combines two of my favorite things: drugs, and space. I hope I do this one day.
I'm not going to write a new story today. I'm drunk and I want to play videogames. It's my day off and I don't have anywhere to be, so meah.
Why I Hate
Now it’s no secret that I hate everyone. You people are always asking me why that is. Well let me explain. First, you need to gain perspective.
Circumstance. The implications will melt your brain if you let it. Have you ever wondered what life would be like if you were born blind, for instance? That your one and only life would be a blind one? It could have easily have been you instead of the other guy. Or born with a rare disease, or Siamese? To have been born 300 years ago and lived through that timeline, or a thousand years into the future? A different race, nationality, height, weight, gender, appearance…? There are people different than you, just look around, and that tiny individual perspective is all they’ll ever truly know of life. Have you ever tried to understand that an unimaginable amount of insanely specific circumstances are what you owe your life to? Everything that you are. Had your great-great grandfather not have decided to go to a bar one Saturday night, wearing what he wore, gotten there when he did, and said what he said, you could easily have never existed. The odds of you existing as you are right now are impossible. It is quite literally a miracle. To quote Alan Moore, “…you are life, rarer than a quark and unpredictable beyond the dreams of Heisenberg…”
Life. You have defied the odds and literally achieved the impossible. So how, you ask, can I hate such spectacular miracles? Easily.
Here you are. You’ve done it. Life is whatever you make of it. And how do you spend it? You waste it! On this thing you call living. This big broken thing. This rat race, this quest for money and power, this obsession with pleasure and entertainment. What the hell is wrong with you? You are given the single most precious thing in all the multiverse and you spend it being lazy, ignorant, in fear and hatred of others, and being stupid? And you ask me how I can hate people who ignore the frontiers of science and make a mockery of art? Fuck you.
PS I lied. hehehe