Life has a fetish for kicking you in the nuts.
Call it a sick sense of humor, a cosmic prankster attitude; whatever tickles your shmancy. Life stalks you, waits for the perfect opportunity when you’re happy and content with your place in the universe, and then proceeds with dashing out of its proverbial bushes and delivering a picture perfect punt to your crotch, that sends your balls shooting through the top of your skull, giving them a one way ticket to the stratosphere.
I think that’s the secret of life. To reach a spot when you’re just comfortable enough to dare and think to yourself ‘hey, this is kind of nice’, only to have some poetic bullshit happen to you that yanks you back to Earth and reminds you that you’re just an unlucky meat bag like the rest of ‘um.
Rinse and repeat. The loop keeps going on and on, the stratosphere is full of balls just floating around our planet and nothing ever changes. Not sure what happens to women, I’m scared to think about that.
No need to go to Mars. No need to find enlightenment. No need for DMT, or any other abbreviated scary drug. There you go; secret of life, solved by a random schmuck, with too much caffeine in his system, and mild childhood trauma.
Step your game up, Elon!
