Everybody hates you.

I haven’t been blogging properly for what seems like a fucking gazillion years. I’m so sorry. Pardon all those protected posts. Too vulnerable to left exposed.

Was reading random posts/blogs. Like, random. Read posts on life and thoughts and stuff like that, by just totally random people. Just creeping into life of a couple of people across the globe, clicking around, being inspired. A pregnant mother, a self-injurer, a troubled student. We are all so similar, yet so different. We could look like clones of each other, yet all have thoughts that are insanely different. We could be parted by whatever the fuck oceans there are, by race, by nationality, by religion, yet sharing such similar, almost identical sentiments. What defines, anyway?

Stumbled upon this supposedly motivating post. “Startups Are Hard. So Work More, Cry Less, And Quit All The Whining.” It was on FP. Well mainly about how the shitload amount of effort you put in will finally pay off. Sometimes I wonder what is the point of succeeding. So what if you make history? You’d be dead by the time everyone starts going on and on about how you are so fucking legendary and shit. It wouldn’t matter anymore, would it? Guess this is pretty much like how God said that earthly treasures don’t matter. God makes sense, eh? Then why do people work their fucking asses off, study so hard, work so hard, for ‘a better future’? What’s so good about the future when all you’re gonna do is work for the future’s future? When does your ‘future’ ever come? Tomorrow doesn’t ever come, I’m guessing that that means future never comes, too. So why work so hard, why try so hard, why torture yourself like that? What’s wrong with having a simple life and be grateful for what you have? Because we are fucking greedy people – I mean, monsters. Things that don’t make sense fascinates us. The crazier it sounds, the better it probably is. Creativity, innovation. That’s what they call them. Oh yeah? Uhh, okay.

Now playing – All I need – One Republic.
“Well all I need/ Is the air I breathe/ And a place to rest my head”
Really, if only.

“Whenever the end is/ Do you think you can see it?/ Well until you get there/ Go on, go ahead and scream it”
Whenever the end is, do you think you can see it? Whatever the end is, does it matter? Why does it matter? So what if other people think of you lowly? “It doesn’t matter how other people think of you”, so often we hear it, so often we say it. Do we really agree with it? We obviously cannot disregard how other people look at us, but yet, it’s so easy just to say it. It makes you sound all so caring and nice, yeah? Well, fuck you. Fuck me too then. Cause we are all a bunch of fucking hypocrites. Admit it, go claim your membership card, you’re already in the club.

I’m sorry. It’s 1a.m. and my mind is in that state again. Yeah, that. Wait, screw that. I’m not sorry. Why should I be sorry? Gosh, I’m fucking hilarious. Whatever.

Anyway, there were fucking ants in my room. Damn, ants! I never knew it was that hard to kill ants. I managed to wipe them off the floor with tissue but damn, they were still alive and kicking – I mean, crawling in my bin! Resorted to spraying antiseptic (I know right), on them cause there was this entire troop (is it troop?) of ants. Anyway it worked. Awesome shit.

Okay why was I talking about ants again? No I don’t know. Okay.

This is getting a little longer that usual. I know you’ve missed reading me. Now, savor it.

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