A Poem

Here I sit all broken-hearted

I came to shit, but instead, I farted

But now the process has finally started

Poop and bum will soon be parted

(The first 2 lines were written on men;s room wall, so I assume that means they are on a creative commons license. The 3rd and 4th lines are my own little touches, and therefore copyrighted. Can you extend the poem further?)

On Happiness

Where I get philosophical

So basically, I’ve discovered to figure out if one is happy. Huh? Don’t you know when you’re happy? Well see, it’s like this. Happiness is such an intangible sort of thing. Is one happy after having an orgasm? Possibly. After eating chocolate? Probably. Abusing a substance? Artificially. Ok, ok enough of ramble.

Phoenix/TTG’s definition of Happiness

Happiness is being able to say:

I could be dead tomorrow, and it wouldn’t matter me

Yep. That’s it. Anti-climactic, possibly but I don’t think so. Of course, once can criticise that statement and poke holes in it. But too bad. It’s late at night, and I’m too lazy to ramble more.