I have a problem. That problem is my personal development on Earth.
Just Earth- everywhere else I’m doing very well and thank you.
But here, the sphere with me on, we will be putting up with 401k’s and such, largely owing to a lack of alternative.
401k’s are a thing of the past. So is lacking an alternative.
Spears are the future.
I could leave it there, but fortunately I’m not paid for this writing, so I will be continuing anyway. Because it feels good.
It feels good?
Mission accomplished. Happy sensation. Tingling toes and I’m grinning. Very well done me.
401k’s are for other people. They bother me because they bother everyone. Bother.
It seems to be the simple introduction of vitally-inconsequential numbers and letters that really can unnerve a man’s day. Like having a ‘V’ and an ’18’ gang-shit you. Fuck V, and fuck 18 too. They’ve never done me a favour or turned up on time.
I don’t see why these letters should be introduced to the nice ladies and gentlemen. What did we do wrong- why thrust letters and numbers at us until we oblige? I’m not here to oblige. I’m here for the rabbit meat.
This is where the spears come in, though usually through one side of a rabbit and then out the other. I believe having a spear is like having a roof- intrinsic to getting by and slapping nature once or twice before succumbing to being sand.
We will all become sand, so in the meanwhile, don’t let anyone write their name in you, especially if they want to do it with piss. If they approach with piss, try to haggle them down to cutlery or something.
Don’t even fucking talk to me about pensions (I prefer to talk about unnecessary swearing In the middle of every fucking single sentence). They are a very bad idea.
A pension will resign you to sitting-down and the rise of the dilapidated brain, shortly followed by the gone-to-pot face and the pretty-much-a-write-off bowels.
Retire ye not thou pious pretender.
To do so is to throw your hands into the air and say “I’m out”, leaving the rest of the world to deal with your leavings, you cruel fool. We are all suffering various stages of childhood, retirement simply gives you a chance to blame children.
However, I can sympathise (if you’ll allow me).
Pensions are a throwback to when they were necessary. Ideally, we should be ready for old-age, and as such- we should be prepared for death by making it much more likely and much more watchable. No, you haven’t earned a retirement, as to do that is to condemn the young to blame and you haven’t earned that right.
Allow me to explain both these points a little further.
Pensions were necessary in a time when old age for some childless proletariat-types resulted in destitution and tragedy.
Now, if you get old- you can physically keep working for longer, you can be aware that retirement equates to a more unpleasantly- comfy death and your government should provide. Of course, this is not the case for all- but many. But enjoy what you do above all.
We must keep working till we die, ideally, or you will never be happy.
We must change our occupations, or we will never have been happy by the time we are most similar to a door-nail.
It’s not a retirement that is so attractive, rather- it is whatever you want to retire from that is the problem. How many musicians, actors, comedians, writers and artists retire? Now compare that to the number of civil-servants that retire, or cab-drivers, or policemen. These are troubled jobs, depression leads to reasons to be depressed about depression, and that is why so many people want out.
You might be a professional tree-climber.
And this profession permits you to do what you love most- be high atop something and be miles away from the floor. An admirable occupation- much more admirable than that occupation of Poland you’ve been planning. Do you want to stop this so that you can really focus on that sitting-down you’ve been promising to commit yourself to for the next 25 years?
People who throw spears for a living don’t ever want to stop. Think about it. You throw the spear and either you’re successful (and you eat whatever’s on the other end of it) or you’re not- in which case you get the amazing opportunity to throw a spear at something again.
“Maintain your sharp-items” is the only real piece of graffiti I have executed, and is one of the most meaningful things I have ever done to a wall (not that all those games of kick-ball meant nothing).
If it’s yours- keep it sharp because a 401k isn’t going to keep the hordes off your porch.
I don’t know when, or why, but I’m presuming that hordes will be a fairly constant annoyance in our lives at some point. Like running out of toilet paper. Perhaps once every 7 months- you’ll run out of toilet paper, or a horde will turn up- grumbling about 401k’s and why their spears are useful in situations like this. Hordes adore spears. You’ll need one too.
I’m already here- what else really needs to be done? The main race was taking place throughout my pa’s genitals, and on into my mother’s genitals, and finally resting on the sofa with a lot to do with my own genitals. And with any luck; getting to know someone else’s.
I’m here- what the fuck. Permit me that at least. Ultimately I shall die, so don’t push pretention and paperwork my way- I’m trying to climb this tree. Whilst typing.
What someone does with their life should be about what they want, even if they wish to retire (in which case prepare to be frowned-the-fuck-upon). However, I feel that given a chance, people will take up professionally hunting fruit and veg as a living, perhaps advancing into spearing fauna at some point- when moving targets are achievable and we get bored of stabbing cabbage.
This is the one ultimate point.
We all get bored. We will all get bored
The curious are victorious- to be dead a long time and wary of this. We should send them all a hamper for doing so well. I’m sure they already have enough medals.
The successful in life are the curious ones. Their curiosity might bring them to the success of enjoyment, of the alternative success of failure- through which experience will be gained and possibly another of those medals. Your failure makes your success more likely.
No matter what we do, curiosity, with a little courage thrown in, wins the daily day and is the reason we have bread, the reason we have bungee-jumping, the reason we have contraceptives, and the reason why I chose to get up each morning.
My personal development has little to do with numbers and letters. But I’m a curious one and I tend to say ‘yes’ 90% of the time and I smile a lot. I win- I’m going to live well and keep doing what I’m doing. I don’t need a form for that.
I don’t have a pension plan, so for those that invest their lives in enforcing their reasons to have one: beware me. I’m going spear shopping. And that’s just swell.