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'War on string may be unwinnable.'

I’m confused about the real order of things and I shouldn’t be.
My mother--bless her cotton socks--never lied to me about how much being a grown up was going to suck. And that I achieved grown-up status at a pretty early age out of necessity has indeed prepared me for the difficulty of achieving success as I define it now. And I have thus nurtured through experience a general lack of optimism in mankind.
That’s not entirely true. I used to be really excited about people and experiences—in an optimistic, progressive way. I suppose my last few jobs have dampened the positive excitement of New People and turned it around into a cumbersome sense of acceptance: "Okay. This is what I get paid to do: meet new people, deal with their problems, take their shit, take my pay check and spend it all on the pseudo-necessitous things in life."
This is all my fault.
The fact that I am sometimes incapable of enjoying all that I have to its fullest extent because I am constantly nagged by the idea of All That I Am NOT Doing, is… My Fault.
Naturally it would be foolish to blame this attitude on things like society, my upbringing, circumstance, culture, gravity, and physics. Really only leaves one left... me.
After all, if America is the one surefire place for a man to Become Anything He Wants, it is definitely the man’s own fault if he Be Nothing At All. After all, he had all the resources available to him.
Right? Right.

This is why I love Charles, and the cats. Not to say that my fiancé has the same level of sensibilities as the cats—I really don’t see any of the furry ones whipping my ass at Scrabble.
It’s only that he is perfectly happy with a glass of decent beer, a friendly ear, and me on his arm. Truly content. He does not spend his weekend prematurely remorseful that on Monday a job he disdains of awaits. He does not always spend his hours thinking of things he should be doing besides what he is Ya rlyactually doing, feeling guilty and unsuccessful even when he is productive—he enjoys the moment and weighs success by the immediate benefits thereof. And I am spending time writing and thinking these ridiculous things, feeling lucky to have a much saner better half willing to put up with me.
Take the youngest cat in our household. Lucy. Lucy’s main concern in life is exactly what she is doing at the time she is doing it, whether that be cleaning her dingleberry-laden ass with her tongue, stalking an invisible antelope, or wrestling with a black piece of string.
If constantly trying to lick your own ass and playing with string all day wouldn’t be the sort of thing that got you locked up, I would trade everything in RIGHT NOW and do that instead.

The point is… I’m grateful for what I have. Sometimes I feel unsuccessful for no reason whatsoever. Not a big deal. Shrug it off.
Just enjoy what you have and stop thinking like an asshole, because life is surprisingly short when you don’t look at the numbers.

If there's a book you really want to read, but it hasn't been written yet, then you must write it.
- Toni Morrison.

When someone asks you, 'A penny for your thoughts,' and you put your two cents in, what happens to the other penny?
- George Carlin.

You should have to pass an IQ test before you breed. You have to take a driving test to operate vehicles and an SAT test to get into college. So why dont you have to take some sort of test before you give birth to children? When I am President, that's the first rule I will institute.
- Marilyn Manson.


This is this and that is that.


I own the best shirt ever.


( 5 little wonders — Say Something )
Aug. 24th, 2009 12:57 am (UTC)
Kelly gave Clint that shirt for his birthday. Truly best shirt ever.
Aug. 24th, 2009 02:33 am (UTC)

It is.
Aug. 24th, 2009 01:26 am (UTC)
as for existential crises, i, sadly, have no wisdom to offer. for this, i am sorry.

as for your shirt, EIGHT THUMBS UP. is that his regular mega buster uniform or one of the special weapons suits?
Aug. 24th, 2009 02:34 am (UTC)
Think it's the regs.

All I know is, I HATED that Ice Man stage. What the fuck? I prefer that Wiley bastard any day.
Aug. 25th, 2009 04:22 am (UTC)
( 5 little wonders — Say Something )