Oh crap, I think I just had a thought
My grade school career has ended, and I've just looked back on it.
I have to say that it was a giant pile of crap.
Memories. What are memories if you're burning in hell? Who remembers anything then?
What are they like in heaven? Frankly, I think I'm going to forget all of them.
What are they like 20 years from now? Will I look back and say "I wish I was there"?
I don't think so.
Frankly, I think memories are a waste of the space in our brain. When people stare at the past, I find that those people are wasting their life, and wallowing in a cess pool of self-pity and grime.
The putrid pit of memories. They are self-focused, and retarded. We can only look back and find some flaw, or some regret.
Our future should be the preoccupation in our minds. Forget the past. It is dead to us. Forget the broken heart, the pain, the failings, the retardedness.
Go ahead and remember the good times. Maybe then we can pass ourselves off as "accomplishing something." Are our achievements based on good times in the past? Do we really achieve anything worthwhile in high school? I don't think so.
Are we mature enough to hate or love? No. We don't know anything yet. We are teenagers with an agenda to achieve something. We can work hard in high school, but only to achieve something later in life, not to gather memories, only to spew them out in some smoky bar, or some cocktail party.
Do you think Donald Trump looks back at high school for support and motivation? Does God remember the past? Would it be worthwhile for Him to do so?
Why do we have memories? To make us more human? Why can't we control what we remember then? Wouldn't that make us more human?
So, what can I gather from my memories from high school? That 90% of all people suck? That I'm poor? That I smelled like cigarettes for 17 years? That I'm overweight, and hate playing sports? That all I could do to get away from it all is watch TV?
How would this perpetuate my achievments? The good times are all that keep me alive. The bad times are terrible, but they happened in the past, and cannot be changed. Why, then, should we have them? They are of no use to us. The bad times are incorrigible, unsatisfied, uncorrected; they are failures of compassion, the victory of defeat.
They are dead memories, brought back by evil to torment us.
They need no place in our minds.
I have to say that it was a giant pile of crap.
Memories. What are memories if you're burning in hell? Who remembers anything then?
What are they like in heaven? Frankly, I think I'm going to forget all of them.
What are they like 20 years from now? Will I look back and say "I wish I was there"?
I don't think so.
Frankly, I think memories are a waste of the space in our brain. When people stare at the past, I find that those people are wasting their life, and wallowing in a cess pool of self-pity and grime.
The putrid pit of memories. They are self-focused, and retarded. We can only look back and find some flaw, or some regret.
Our future should be the preoccupation in our minds. Forget the past. It is dead to us. Forget the broken heart, the pain, the failings, the retardedness.
Go ahead and remember the good times. Maybe then we can pass ourselves off as "accomplishing something." Are our achievements based on good times in the past? Do we really achieve anything worthwhile in high school? I don't think so.
Are we mature enough to hate or love? No. We don't know anything yet. We are teenagers with an agenda to achieve something. We can work hard in high school, but only to achieve something later in life, not to gather memories, only to spew them out in some smoky bar, or some cocktail party.
Do you think Donald Trump looks back at high school for support and motivation? Does God remember the past? Would it be worthwhile for Him to do so?
Why do we have memories? To make us more human? Why can't we control what we remember then? Wouldn't that make us more human?
So, what can I gather from my memories from high school? That 90% of all people suck? That I'm poor? That I smelled like cigarettes for 17 years? That I'm overweight, and hate playing sports? That all I could do to get away from it all is watch TV?
How would this perpetuate my achievments? The good times are all that keep me alive. The bad times are terrible, but they happened in the past, and cannot be changed. Why, then, should we have them? They are of no use to us. The bad times are incorrigible, unsatisfied, uncorrected; they are failures of compassion, the victory of defeat.
They are dead memories, brought back by evil to torment us.
They need no place in our minds.