Worldly complaints

I just realized, anybody who is under the false impression that they are selfless. Needs to look at themselves properly. Because in the end, everybody, me included, really cares about themselves. You will complain, something will go wrong, and you will have a little bitch. We all do it. Don't lie.

And that's precisely what is wrong with society.

We would rather ignore a situation, like a stranger getting harassed, then get involved, and get ourselves hurt. Sure, we would help someone close to us, easily, because in the end it benefits us, because we keep that relationship strong.

But then, maybe I am looking at it the wrong way, being pessimistic, but that's just because I'm in a bad mood.
Sorry Blogger, These are my rages.

Muffin Stuff, Roger

Precorded.

Sometimes I wish I could view events before they happen, in order to prepare myself, how to act, what to do. But then I think to myself, Wouldn't I then act differently, according to what I wanted to change the outcome to?

Then, would the outcome change at all?

And on another point, would all that nonsense count as time travel? I mean, you would only get one shot at doing things right, So it's like, one step down from doing things normally, and one up from rewinding time.

Which makes me think about destiny, and whether we all have choices in life, or if our lives are pre written and we just go through living them, like puppets, or characters in a book. Then I usually get rather depressed when I imagine this being true, Because it means someone out there is a LOT better writer then me.

Then I get all mopey about the futility of our actions, So I make myself a green tea and wish I was stupid and didn't think so complicatedly.

Tempted

I was really tempted to write a blog post and tell you about the mood I'm in which is kind of the entire point of a/this blog.

But you know what?
2 things
Uno) No one will want to/will read it.
Duo) I couldn't be fucked.

Right, Going to start my new story now, Bye.

Fucking Humans.

Except Zoee'.

Tired.

Why am I so tired?

Fucking Drama.

I cannot stand analytical essays.

I have to have an entire draft done by the end of today, which is a very achievable task, but right now all I can think is fuck it.
But I have to do it.

There is probably a reason analytical has the word anal in it.
Two actually.
Reason one: Everything has to be exact, and the people marking it are usually anal about it.
Reason two: I look forward to them as much as I would receiving anal. Or giving it.

I guess I'm just not in a good mood.
I can't wait until we get to do a performance piece..

Well, that's enough blogging.
Happy Mother's day.

Roger.

Of the Number 50.

This post has nothing to do with the number 50, expect due to the fact that it is my 50th post.
Hoorah!

On to the post.
A while ago when a certain Mr Tom Rogers was staying with us, himself and I were searching for Douglas Adams quotes and we came across this Gem.

"Isn't it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too?"
This basically states that people should be able to see the natural beauty of something, without having to make up reason why it is so.
Shortly after reading this, I was having an argument about religion, with them arguing for the Christian.I used this in the arguement, and it was basically ignored,

So, I don't know what I find more upsetting about the Human Race, That we do feel the need to make up a supernatural/spiritual reason for things being the way they are, or that they are no longer as understanding, or philosophical as they used to be, Or if they are, they never show it.
There is also a part of Occam's Razor that says another something along the same lines as Douglas Adams quote. Translated from Latin it reads "No more things should be believed exist then are absolutely necessary."

I know is a very anti-religious post, and I would like to say that, although I am anti-religion, I don't believe there is nothing spiritual going on in the world.

Thanks for reading, Till next time,
Roger.