Fly…away with me; I can’t quite make it alone; try to make this life my own —Foo Fighters
What do you do when you you come across people that need help? Some of the venting says ‘need help,’ but blogging isn’t really the place for help… or much ’anything serious. Many have been laying out dirty laundry for a long time. But what can you do?
Do you laugh, and/or possibly encourage what you think is nonsense in the process?
Do you rest on the probability of their independence?
25ToDie: It’s not anyone’s place to “care” for strangers from afar.
And what about those pricks that inappropriately promote themselves when they’re supposed to be helping people in need? And when you step in to help, you step in sh…
(In broeken French: pas dans l’merde.)
…I can’t elaborate on that story here due to the “Can’t talk about myself” policy that exists right now. And so the story becomes
unfettered B.S., and this post is ‘runed.’ (To Care or Not To Care: R.I.P. Dec. 13, 2012 2:56 AM – Dec. 13, 2012 4:18 AM)
And what’s the value of a bad joke of a comment, anyway?
And then the comments start to become just as detached and promotional as the Likes.
With concern now… and more space in between due to about-zero self-promotion.
Someone (that may or may not be me) needs to ‘get’ the non-obligatory part of blogging.
At least there are no complaints over the links. So far.
A matter true carries, in part, things that are false
And there’s that End Times “prophecy.” There are quite a number of posts/suicides on it.
I can guaran-frickin’-tee you that the world will not end eight days from now. People, groups worry and celebrate, and there are so many underlying inaccuracies—with all of the Gregorian calender readjustments, that scheduled “End” has already passed!
Those Mayans’d be callin’ y’all clowns. (With different words than y’all and clowns.)
And besides, it’s only the end of the United States as we know it, not the world.
(A “politically correct end of a nation.”)
(And some people say they want to see the day that political correctness is no more to mean, “once the world is already—and possibly, forcibly—politically correct, why bother.”)
(And, as a part of nature, some never stop trying to control any and everyone.)
And on the 2,227,964th day, ‘God’ became a term of frustration.
It took only one quick twitter signup (and deactivation) to receive a load of SPAM.
And holding bowels to post this— godda—!