The Next Thirty Years

Last week, I turned 35. And then I thought, what the hell? What the "f "am I gonna do for the next 30 years, 60 years? Jesus, I feel like I have lived forever already! You see, I am kind of at a point where everything I do seems pretty meaningless. I am not particularly fond of the world or how it works. What is my purpose? What is your purpose? What is the purpose of jello? It was then that I realized, I have no purpose. Other than the purpose that I lay out for myself. What kind of person do I want to be? What kind of life do I want to live? So now, I can spend the next 30 years deciding what kind of person I want to be and then the 30 years after that being that person. This is ridiculous.

This is Retarded

Mentally Challenged=not smart=dumb=retarded. Why is this an issue? It is what it is. Stop being so frickin' sensitive and get over it. I am pretty sure that I have the right to say what I want to say when I want to say it, you know, living in the U.S. and all. You know what? You have the right to not listen.