WARNING: The contents of this post are pretty textbook first-year-philosophy-"what's-the-meaning-of-life"-as-seen-through-the-eyes-of-disaffected-youth crap - except I'm 34 years old and I'm still fucking pissed off at the shitty pointlessness (and pointless shittiness) of life, and my ever-thwarted attempts to escape it or at least rise above it
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