I once told a girl she had a moustache. My intention was pure. I just wanted to alert the tudunged girl she had a moustache. Not to laugh at her, but maybe to give her five bucks to get her moustache some threading.
She got offended.
I once told a person that certain things may not go their way. My news - again, well-meaning - provoked a tantrum. And weak machinations that annoyed me so much, I chose to not give a fuck about the fucker.
I have learned that people do shoot messengers, and I sure as hell will no longer be that bearer of bad news.
So the good news is, the world will end. Regardless of what we do, the world will die. If we stop struggling so much, maybe we would have some time to enjoy the bondage.
Some people believe that merely the force of feeling bad will change things. It doesn't. Feeling bad has never and will never do anything.
Anger, guilt, sadness, frustration, depression. All useless.
Okay. Nap before the thing.
