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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[–] 9 points 2 years ago (3 children)

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.

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