Mood: Content
Listening to: Blink182
Life’s a funny old thing. One day you feel up, the next you feel down. It’s funny but even when you know you should be happy when you’re down you forget you know that.
That’s the rub. That’s the root of religion and man’s truth for the ultimate in whatever the fuck it’s supposed to be all about. And we always think it’s about being happy, after all, the search for the ultimate truth should lead to happiness… isn’t that the natural state of the universe? Peace, love; all that peace and love.
Well sometimes it makes me sad - all this realisation. I mean I’m happy I’m here and all that, the alternative isn’t too attractive. But you know you realise that it’s never been written that life is fair, or should be, or that happiness is a human right. WTF it’s nothing of the sort. And parents who impart bollocks like that to kids are responsible for all the drugs, heartache and acne that exists in this ball of shit seven thousand miles in diameter.
The bastards. They love you so much they lie and say how nice it is here on earth, like being an adult opens the vault to the wonder of all things fucken super duper. Bastards and bollocks to that too.
The thing is, there’s nothing wrong with having shit going on. The problem is thinking there’s something wrong with having shit going on. That’s the reason we all feel fucked up and sorry for ourselves. And that crime is pure evil parent made bastard-proof logic that fucks it all up. To know that shit is normal takes all the shit away. Remember to teach your kids life’s a bitch – they’ll love you for it one day.
Now imagine being told that you’re going to get an ice-cream and it’s the best fucking ice-cream flavour ever to hit your tongue. It’s like a pure little bit of heaven, as if Jesus milked the cow and made the shit himself. Here you go lad, have a spoonful.
And… well it’s shite, really shite, the gag reflex kicks in and you really are pissed off with the ice-cream, the person who gave you the ice-cream and the whole idea of ice-cream… WTF were they thinking when they invented this shit – and that Jesus oke is satan’s little helper. You’re a pissed off ice-cream hater.
Now imagine that same ice-cream just minding it’s own business, sitting in a bowl in your friend’s kitchen. You look at it and take a spoonful. Fuck that tastes bad. Like offal and you laugh and tell your mate that they have a serious disease to be able to eat that shit.
The difference – no one put a big thought of a fantastic orgasmic ice-cream journey in your mind and therefore you couldn’t be disappointed. You just had pooh ice cream and you can laugh about it. That’s life… don’t expect too much and every now and then you get a great surprise… you also get to eat pooh. But who said it should be anything else.
