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  • I have a firm belief in the "Cycle of Life".

    You are born.
    You learn to piss and shit in the proper place.
    You go to learning institutions, where you are taught how to properly become a functioning member of your society.
    You reach an age where:
    a) You embrace those ideologies
    b) You go Rumspringa in order to find your own limits create a set of ideologies you can live with.
    You grow up (somewhat), wear a mask during the day, take it off at night and be the beast you really are.
    **Note: Some people never learn how to remove the mask and are attached to it 24/7.

    At various points along the way you get very passionate about things attend rallies and protests and (if you're very lucky) get pepper sprayed by the police.
    **Note: Some people thing a bearded man in the sky will burn them and condemn them to Hell if they do this, so they stay on the sidelines and take up fantasy football or knitting.

    THEN, you reach the age where you work all day (again, if you're lucky, you are doing something you enjoy) and get home too tired to protest, so you settle in with your favorite vice and write about your angst on the Internet.

    Que up this post.

    I'll admit. I don't like complaining to the Internet. It's like praying; no one listens and it really gets you nothing, but you tend to feel better afterwards. So what am I going to do?

    I'm going to complain.

    A stupid man once said (me) "When your vices have failed you all you've got left are hobbies...better make sure they're interesting!"

    My body and chosen lifestyle have rejected most of the vices I enjoy. Some of that's good, the rest is just fucking pathetic! I've got some hobbies I enjoy, but only one of them really sparks a serious amount of I need to go in search.

    All I can really say about this is "fuckity, fuckity, fucker Fuck!"

    There. I have complained.
    Now get off my damn lawn.
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