Tears last 5 seconds. Then you put on some trap music and harden up heaux. #nonewme #lilphucker #newyearsamepetty #youthoughtwrong #changeurattitude #aboutmyattitude #causeidgaf #STILL (at Bitchfix)

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Tears last 5 seconds. Then you put on some trap music and harden up heaux. #nonewme #lilphucker #newyearsamepetty #youthoughtwrong #changeurattitude #aboutmyattitude #causeidgaf #STILL (at Bitchfix)
Progress in ways I had not intended
This season has been one of which my program was forcibly changed. I knew that there could be detrimental effects, and I knew I might suffer in the area I care most about, my sole focus for some months now; that is, studying. I was getting in a good 15-20 quality hours a week consistently. At my best I had days where I counted up 6 quality hours of studying, if I remember correctly, most of which included working late into the night, oftentimes getting into the zone in the shift where I had the least distractions. I killed from 10pm-2am. A month or so ago I made a choice. I entered back into something I once loved. An activity that had become a great source of stress. I was at fault for that, and so I put it away, locking the memory of that which I did for passion in a far corner of my mind. That activity was weightlifting. Now I have taken an opportunity given by an amazing man. But where this fits in my life— I have lost focus. And to continue this slack would mean ...in one word...dissappointment, of the sefish kind. To continue would mean negligence, cowardice—all that I hate about my will going frail on me. When my work capacity was climbing and plateau'n, I said to myself that to maintain was ok but to progress was ideal. I want 25-27 hours a week consistently for the next few months. I know the impact of achieving this. I know, more familiarly, the result of not making this goal. I know that fucking result like I know nausea before vomiting. Fucking sickening. But there is something learned, or re-learned in this most recent iterate of regression. That I would rather not express in words. That I'll keep at the forefront of my mind moving forward. That—
...One is remiss in forgetting that which was enjoined some time previously: the want of will renders a person negligent; the want of interest renders a person remiss: one is negligent in regard to business, and the performance of bodily labor; one is remiss in duty, or in such things as respect mental exertion.
English Synonyms Explained… By George Crabb
In terms of an action item for failing, one thing that we say, is, if you have to do something that’s really hard, whether it’s writing a paper, whether it’s…working in something business, or school; if you gotta do it–do it really quickly, really poorly. Just do it. Just sit down and just do it. And your gonna produce junk and garbage. But within that mess, you might find gems. And all of a sudden it will start to organize your thinking and your ideas. And now you iterate, and now you begin a process, of refining, and failing and failing, and all of a sudden bang! You got it. …The idea is that, by iterating, we were able to produce something that…was the right thing for us to produce.
Professor Edward Burger From YouTube Video, “A Conversation with Edward B. Burger about The 5 Elements of Effective Thinking”
13 minutes in
Beginning of a bit
When I was 22 I crashed my dads motorcycle. I asked him to take me riding , but I sort of took the ride by his suggestion. I trust him a lot and I made the assumption that if he felt this was dangerous or beyond me at this time, he’d voice his opinion even if I myself was convinced that I was ready-which I totally wasn’t. I had no confidence and I didn’t like the situation going in-riding in the small crowded blocks of his neighborhood in Compton where people regularly sped through residential streets, blowing stop signs and turning speed bumps into instant rollercoasters.
But I got on the bike and “felt the acclerator,” under his instruction. The last words my dad said, and actually repeated three times, just before I took off, were;
“Whatever you do—don’t drop my bike.”
The truly worst part of this irony hit me at the end of the day while struggling through calculus homework, in that I felt something wrong, just really chapping my ass. It was that I trusted him to look out for me, and he, in some weird way, failed that trust, ‘by trusting me’, to do this thing that in his own words, “Anyone can do, if you fall you’re fucking stupid, cause that’s just like falling off a bicycle, now tell me how the fuck you gonna do that?”
Let me tell you—its nothing like falling off a bicycle, and we know this because not a lot of dudes are out there telling the time their life flashed before their eyes when they dumped the Schwinn.
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