#1:32 and losing my grip. Or somehow just keeping it. The six turret roulette wheel rolls round and round - and which chamber lands where pretty much amounts to nada in the greater schema. Click, Click, Boom. #2:I'm one of the lucky ones. Then again, luck is not necessarily good. #3:I want to make my world as beautiful and as interesting as possible. Even half way or where ever I actually am on the journey towards that very goal (the long internal voyage towards an uncertain terra nova) - I find it impossible to converse about about the finer details with most people most of the time. I have a lot of weird and intense shit rattling about deep in here (crAnium bAckstAge) and I find its adequate verbal conveyance quite impossible-consequently half sketched dreams run amok, howling at whatever displaced the moon. Admittedly, this can be very funny-but I'd be in a lot of trouble if I told you what I was actually thinking. Really..............I would. #4:If you've ever wondered whether you're normal..........its a pretty sure bet normal people don't ask that question. Weirdness's hymen is well and truly torn asunder by the mere posing of that particular question. #5:I am evidently an alien (people refer back to your preferred etymological word horde). #6:Christ I thought I'd be cruising on autopilot - well beyond the event horizon of this pervasive mindset as I approached the hallowed cusp of early middle age...........it was never my intention to still be the purveyor of high quality teen angst bullcrap during that point of my life where I find my first folicles turning a paler shade of polar bear. But I is what I is. (Can't go forward. Can't go back. Can't move sideways. Can't see myself in a professional capacity Can't face being an even more dropped out bum. My liver won't take it. The old realities are falling. I'm haunted bad by real bad memories&the phosgene burn of AWOL acolytes leaves fading traces traces on the implacable declension of my minds eye's Kodak reel. (Mr Kodak shot a photo. Mr Kodak shot a film. Mr Kodak shot himself) I'd like to be the auteur of my own heroic personal narrative(s) rather than being the mere unconcious and unknowing spewer of someone/something elses - taking those thoughts to be my own and acting accordingly. But maybe that fantasy is my very own personal flavor of the viral affliction that afflicts us all?). I can't really explain and I need somebody somewhere to understand....... TV lies.
The really important kind of freedom involves attention, and awareness, and discipline, and effort, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them, over and over, in myriad petty little unsexy ways, every day…. The only thing that’s capital-T True is that you get to decide how you’re going to try to see it. You get to consciously decide what has meaning and what doesn’t…. The trick is keeping the truth up-front in daily consciousness.
True heroism is minutes, hours, weeks, year upon year of the quiet, precise, judicious exercise of probity and care—with no one there to see or cheer. This is the world.
Much of the Writing of NLP practitioners also detracted from its credibility because it had a scattered or pedantic style. It appears that NLP’s emphasis on innovation, “bite-sized” techniques, and grandiose promises tended to attract people with unaddressed symptoms of attention deficit disorder (ADD/ ADHD) or other problems in need of insight. This seems to have produced a self-perpetuating cycle that sealed the fate of NLP in so far as the mainstream is concerned.
a clown’s smirk in the skull of a baboon
(where once good lips stalked or eyes firmly stirred)
my mirror gives me, on this afternoon;
i am a shape that can but eat and turd
ere with the dirt death shall him vastly gird,
a coward waiting clumsily to cease
whom every perfect thing meanwhile doth miss;
a hand’s impression in an empty glove,
a soon forgotten tune, a house for lease.
I have never loved you dear as now i love…
pixelskylines
prguitarman
baratheonpilled
discoholicmusic