You all sound typically retarded…it reminds me of that song MJ use to sing…“make the world a better place, for you and for me and the entire human race”, while lowkey fingering little boys in the background…not to bash MJ dead corpse but you all seem very idealistic, like a man who thinks that marriage is apart of life on some kind naturally intrinsic level with the inability to understand the cultural construct aspect of it, then when it is doomed to fail due to many social, cultural and personal tolerance factors, he STILL does not fully accept the reality of what happened, but rather justify it by saying to himself, “well, it was better to love than to never love”, or “at least i got two beautiful children from it”…
You lot are that kind of retarded…which stems from a feminine disposition of an egoistic narcissism, emotions are at play here…heavily…I say heavily because it seems genetic or something…it’s not like a born paraplegic will ever know what it’s like to truely walk.
Really, you lot are seriously everywhere! I find it funny when you all do that stupid walking rumination thingy where you are looking at the ground with a confused expression on your face, trying to figure something out…always looking for that fix, or rather to fix something… it’s like a heroin addict 2.0 where it all takes place on a mental level, thoughts/ideas are the drug promoting delusions of grandeur is the release, as some form of coping mechanism compensating for an internal void.
calling yourself humans who automatically deserve something because you got a degree, or paid your taxes…or contributed to society<— my favourite one…
that ptsd that it leaves you with is funny, not going to lie, i giggle a lot when i see it. it’s even more funny when you “sell your soul” in those competitive environments and it doesn’t pay off, and then pretend to have never been apart of it, or seek to change into this morally inclined great character but we all know what STILL lingers…those demons of entitlements… perhaps you’ll become a monk? or even maybe save the cows…like a mafia member who survives the business, finds God through shock of what he has seen and done, but doesn’t want to let go of the money/lifestyle…
There’s an infancy to it, boys and girls with big guns. Perhaps you need a thousand years to establish your specialness, i imagine you’ll need another thousand to fine tune it though.(entry point for sarcasm or a placeholder for your mania to project into, feel free) perhaps the imaginary audience will no longer be imaginary by then.