To be, or not to be--that is the question:clearspira wrote: ↑Thu Sep 30, 2021 8:52 pmWhich is why oblivion is the most likely answer. Religion is at least 10,000 years old and the combined efforts of all of those priests, oracles, scholars, and followers for all of those millennia is... ''zero'' evidence. Uh-huh.Yukaphile wrote: ↑Thu Sep 30, 2021 12:33 pm We live with an extremely mentally ill person, my older half-brother. He never kept the joint clean, he slopped food after himself, my mom can't keep up even with my help, we've been begging for professional cleaning services to come in and HELP, like in 2016, but no one was willing to do it. I personally think they just wanna make back COVID losses since the eviction mortarium expired last month, and they found all the excuse they needed. Even back when we were cleaning better than this, we were never good enough for them. They'd complain about meat we had out to cook that day. Now we have roaches. Ofc, we've been through vermin infestations before. Like termites, bedbugs, and others. But they gave us a week to vacate. A week. That expires today. That is zero time, especially with the weekend coming up. But these people are sharks, what can you do. For a while, we're going to be living in our car. Like it was in 2009.
I'll say something that will probably make Fuzzy happy. I'm REALLY in favor of repealing the vagrancy law. Good intentions, but all it takes is ONE overzealous cop to enforce a law that, well, people are not poor by choice, it just happens. I'll also take a moment to call out clearspira in that I don't think oblivion awaits us in the beyond. Yeah, I've questioned what happens over and over, but there's zero proof one way or another and it's not as absolute as he made it sound. But I've really stopped caring. My life is a waste and I don't care if I'm here, really.
Anyway, this isn't another religion thread. I just hope it works out better for you. Things can and do improve as hard as it is to see now.
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing end them. To die, to sleep--
No more--and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep--
To sleep--perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprise of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action. -- Soft you now,
The fair Ophelia! -- Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remembered.
-Hamlet, Act 3 Scene 1. AKA "The part Dinobot steals half his lines from"
