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Free Form on Forms

Some people live to fill out forms. Some people make a living doing just that. Some people are unimaginably talented in fitting and formatting forms to their maximum potential. I respect those people- I am envious of those people. I am definitely not one of those people.

I firmly believe the most abhorrent thing this modern world has to offer is an unnecessary wealth of forms to fill. 

Everything has a form to fill. The next time you think you have to pee, make sure you've filled that form out properly-elsewise you'll never be able to apply for that government job.

You have to fill out a Form A when you've filled that out, and if you look to your left, you'll notice that the notary is making a face because you didn't use the right kind of pen. In that case, you'll need to fill out Form B before you can get on Form A again. You dumb dick.

A prison of paper cuts. An invisible barrier between you and the rest of your happy life. I would love to be free. But I have a number of fucking forms to fill before I can even think of applying for that kind of thing.

I can attribute at least 85% of any unhappiness to the presence of forms in my life. People generally deal with them. People can fill them out without a qualm, reassured that they have it in writing.

Forms guilt you into filling them, because you haven't proved yourself you until you found the right paperwork. You're doing yourself a disservice, not filling yourself out. Fuck that noise; I'm pretty sure my existence has been established before I had to write it down and strip it of any excitement.

I hate them. I hate forms with an anxious passion. They have no time for whimsy. Puns are neither welcome nor appreciated. Nothing so wholly captivates my shortcomings as a modern human being than my inability to fill them out properly.

And because they reflect my failure without a sympathetic nod, I find them unreasonably unpleasant. Forms usually assure that I have somehow fucked myself when I gave reality a respectful nod and put it off until it came time to check my credit. I despise forms. I am a delicious bit of nonsense. Forms reduce me to a nearly incompetent lady-child without any bureaucratic merit.

I would gladly sell my soul to Kim Kardashian's unborn baby then fuck a dead dinosaur to life if I never had to fill out another form again in my lifetime.


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