I wanted to know, but they thought it best I didn’t. I argued with them about it, told them they had no right to keep it from me, but they persisted. Eventually I found out anyway. Well, they had been right, of course.
- Me: The Universe keeps fucking with me.
- My Sister: I know, but it has to stop soon.
- Me: No it doesn't. The Universe doesn't give two shits about anything. It does what it does.
Would somebody please tell me why the Universe is fucking with me so bad right now?
He thought about that for a minute, and it bothered him a little bit. But then he went on with his day and he didn’t think about it anymore.
Every once in a while I start thinking about things, but then I make myself stop. It’s better not to think so much.