The kill joy, ready made type
What an easy life when you are an ignorant!
Dull face. Knows all football matches. Actually, this fellow made an art from sitting in front of a TV with a 4-for-£4 pack and trying to prove that this is his life passion. I think I could made another passion from observing clouds in the garden. I would watch them for hours while they change their shapes, move around in the sky, still sitting in the chair and observing them pointlessly. No hobby, no interests to substitute the pointless activity(!) or rather lack or activity.
I’m pretty certain you know people like that. They seem to unhappy. But not because something didn’t work out or they’ve just been dumped by their ex. The only reason is their very own ignorance to the rest of the world.
In their view, there always could be something better. Certainly they would do something better than you, but somehow they’ve got more important stuff to do. Like watching TV. Or complaining. Or critisising. Or annoying those around them. The kill joy type, in its glory.
Unless you are really lucky, everything comes with the price. You want your own house? No problem, go ahead and buy one. Oh, you don’t have enough money? Well, you can take mortgage and pay it off over the next three decades. Obviously, you will need to earn money to pay it off. But before they will do that they will moan and complain, undermine others’ achievements just to feel better. Screw you.
In my mind things happen only to people who dare to take a risk, instead of passively sitting and wasting their life. I don’t want to be another surprised romantic who at the end of his life the only thing has to say: I’ve just had a bad day. Year. Life.
It is not only about money, passion is ignored as well.
That football matches. Obviously, a guy knows, Mr Know it all, knows the football inside. Damn! He even knows even at what angle the ball should be kicked, and by who. That’s not important that the last time he played football was years ago, back in high school, probably.
He is the biggest supporter of his favourite team and he knows his stuff. Not the footballers who actually spend hours on daily basis sweating out like a horse in a western movie.
I don’t just get one thing, one simple thing. If you admire something and you are calling yourself a fan, why do you criticise everything on every single occasion? How come that others try and make mistakes, and can live with that. But the football supporter cannot bare it even for a second?
Oh yes, I’ve forgotten, they are like a never polished diamond – maybe there is something marvellous inside, but there’s nobody to cut. Because the only person who can cut your diamond, is yourself.