Purpose of this post: Sinisterish/Self help in the form of Hari Kari

Q: D’y’ever think something is just y’know fantastic? You shouldn’t touch it, feel it, really see it much, but you just know it’s perfect.

In an alternate universe, this would be yours. You can get frustrated, but what’s the point? It’s not important. What’s important is that giving a shit means you’re alive and feeling something. I have Paulo Coehlo in a box and I’m going to microwave him. It was his own fault for givin it loads of mouth. I have learned a lot in the past few days about listening to people’s advice. Being a selfish asshole, the human will convince itself of anything, therefore I am healed.

This all also means I maybe completely mad and should proabably stay the fuck away from shopping centres.

A. The answer to The Secret isssssssssssssssss CRISPS, btw, CRISPS. And I am probably not healed, but I have crisps.

NOTE: Stretch MacGibbon have never read any self-help books, because he was too busy reading Jesus Jones: Our Last Autobiography: Homelessness and the culture of fear in Menswear Outfitters.

Yer gettin this, yeah?

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