When I’m unhappy, I feel like I’m doing life wrong. I’d rather be happy. But is happiness the point of life, or is there more to it? If I pursue happiness, mine first then for those around me, is that selfish? But if there’s a bigger purpose, then what about people with Alzheimer’s or dementia who can’t recall recent experiences or make plans?
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I’m meat with electricity in it, and somehow I know this. I’m using my finger meats to send your meat a message it can absorb and which will cause your meat to react in a certain way.
What. The. Fuck.
Hello, meat. How’s it going?
Amazing. Thank you
