#wshnuw

[wshnuw]

I wonder if I should just have less to say in general.

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Like a poem that you have allowed another to edit.

[wshnuw]

And then she said, “Yes—No—Definitely.” And that made me wonder if she didn’t know what the word definitely meant or if she was just lying to me or herself or whoever.

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“Quick! Sound the quacksons!”

[wshnuw]

It’s neat that Pooh has such a clearly defined goal of honey. It really gives clarity to his sacrifice when he places goals, like the well-being of his friends, above the sweet and sticky.

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Unfiltered, unfettered, unfit for unfounded fame.

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Life is a mental condition.

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Beware of being friends with bullies

Lest you yourself become a bully

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Like a decaying office interior Like cubicles in disrepair and once well tread and clear pathways disrupted by things and things and nothing

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-You are not better than someone because you know something they do not. Never forget this.

-But you are, at least kind of. You are more valuable. Additional knowledge makes you more of an asset. I would almost go as far as to say that knowing something someone doesn’t is exactly what makes you better than them.

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One of the hallmark hurdles humans have to overcome as long as our society stays its course will be a hurdle of attention, one of focus. There is so much quality entertainment that is easily accessible. Creators have to turn away from the high pressure fount and breathe before they’ll ever have the mindset to consistently generate quality. And then they have to stay away in order to forge the necessary hours one regularly needs to produce.

[wshnuw]

Acceptance

I think one of the reasons I have focused on sharing is because I want to be a part of a community of people that produce work that I admire. There’s an issue with that, though, because Bill Watterson, Paul Madonna, Heinrich Kley, Randall Munroe, Theodor Seuss Geisel, Jerry Holkins, and Mike Krahulik aren’t going to read my work and say, ‘That’s our boy, Wilco.’

[wshnuw]

Rip it out of me take the passion kill it If it was a vampire, I know you have stacks of stakes So stick me drill into the heart and twist and pull and leave me an empty cargo hull

Push me off into space and someday I’ll feed a star

[wshnuw]

Come, friends Enter my home and libate

[wshnuw]

You do not find your passion. You build it.

[wshnuw]

Saudade Smile

And then we came to the end.

While standing in wind that carried debris like an aimless conveyor belt, we felt a sort of saudade. Because we made it to this point together, though, we felt it with with the soft smile of consent.