When you smile, the world stops to witness your happiness. Always smile, so the world is always stopped for you.
“I once was dumb, and find myself flashing back every so often,” says anyone not realistic about their limitations.
Honesty is helpful to one’s self, but honesty through eloquence is helpful to everyone.
Happiness is a rudder, of which we know little its mechanisms and much its foils.
The worst feeling is knowing I’ve changed someone’s outlook on life or me, without meaning to. I detest being thought of, let alone negatively.
Given the flower or the seed, always remember: one is dying, while the other has yet a chance to live.
Remember your constraints; they are not meant solely to keep you, but to carry you as well.
Memory is a muscle, and sleep is protein.
Being still is a means of control; remember, when you feel as though everything is out of control, you can always control yourself. Often, after gaining control of yourself, others fall in line accordingly.
Be great at everything you take time to do. Never settle for being okay; being okay is leaving knowledge on the table, and handing the check to someone else when you have more than enough of an ability to foot the bill.
Be great. Just try it for a while, and you won’t want to be anything else.
I will fight so long as there is a clear goal; otherwise, I would be flailing, which is far too close to another type of -ailing to know a difference.
I’m glad autocorrected, “words,” are not recorded, or you would no doubt think less of me.
I despise misspelling a single word, and will take time from writing to discern the correct spelling. Yes, this sucks for stream of consciousness, but I avoid Worry, a much stronger force than Theme or Subject or Passion to me. Labelled OCD, it’s really a pursuit of perfection, for whatever that’s worth or however subjective its realities. Being honest with myself, Passion for perfection is the same as Passion for writing, and so long as Passion is used, no other purpose matters.
If I could describe [Candi &] my sleeping habits using only a comparison to another species, I would point toward Dryococelus australis’.
Acceptance grants the acceptor unlimited insight into existence. However strong one’s beliefs or ideals, acceptance can broaden that strength by merely stretching to encompass more. Acceptance is assimilation of all observances and thoughts into one’s life. If even to dispel another’s views, accepting acknowledges those views and allows the acceptor to objectively move on from them. Fighting what exists, even if only in another’s thoughts, is fighting fantasy. Acceptance is not accepting existence, but is accepting there are other views of existence; even if another’s lens needs cleaning, acceptance allows us to be tolerant, and tolerance allows for clarity of thought, the most highest achievement of humanity.
In Greece, she would be as a goddess; here, she is a cunt.
It seems marriage is the only thing, once broken, which is no longer appreciated for its prior state.
It’s better to be far behind than fed up. – Mike Goodman says this sucks as a quote.
My goal in life is to ruffle as few feathers as possible, because all they do is dirty the water. [ruffle is not the same as pull, so this doesn’t really work]
Life is a series of choices to interact, or not.
Drinking is a form of relaxation, like dying is a form of sleeping.
Living in the present is not the same as forgetting the past.
Antagonists are as important as the protagonists, just as space is as important as the stars.
Leaving is never as hard as apologizing for having done so.
“Lonely,” is not the right word; “solitary,” is.
I try hard to be as silent as possible; I write instead. This has caused my verbal communication skills to diminish (as though I ever had them). Self-degradation is my defense mechanism, and I often depend on it to make others feel better about having hurt me, even professionally. Never be who you want to be; be who you need to be to be who you want to be. “To be,” or not, but know you are always being [something].
Listen to be heard.
Breaking is an excuse to fix.
Listening is the sincerest form of respect; it is a direct reflection of the time one puts into another.
Memory is the bottle of creativity.
Love from our feline friends gives happiness with a side of humility.
Look to always be better; you know, so you can become Prime ‘n’ shit.
Going and going, the mover never knows to stop.
“Always ask yourself, ‘what’s the worst that could happen?,'” was my Mom’s way of breaking my anxiety, so I could fix it with logical discernment.
I write as a form of expression. All expression is invaluable, as is all interpretation.
Dying is having known inhaling and exhaling, and being unable to do either.
Anger defines us. I would rather be without definition, though such shapes rarely keep it together. Can I say, then, that anger both gives us definition and destroys us, eventually, if we attempt to remain undefined?
I am more critical of my mistakes than thankful for my successes. Does this make me ungrateful of my gifts, or wanting of more? No. I am critical so I can strengthen my gifts, and pass them on to our children.
Lineage is the path one’s successes should take, with failures as signs along the way.
Failure is life’s way of showing you how much success should be desired.
Relativity is scaled.
I regret my previous lack of effort.
… like caribou in Malibu,
And I’m a big game hunter
With a finger on the trigger
And 4 more on the butt
“He’d be twice as smart if he talked half as much.” – My Dad
Lose to know what winning feels like? Sure, I’ll die to live now, too.
We can adapt to [any situation], but decide to make excuses for any situation. We call this, “being human,” but I call this, “bothering to be bad.”
Love is everyday. Portraying a bond as unattainable, except through a miracle, belies the work and patience put into love. Love is like the river and the stones: worn into one another, they are just as beautiful together as when they first met.
Jealousy is an afflicting notion that something will happen which leaves one at a disadvantage to another.
I miss losing my balance and floating into a crash; this is not a call for help, but a way to remember what was and is no more.
We foolish billions.
While light-boned feather-heads fly,
We crawl, silently, leveling to rebuild
What was beyond our reach– still.
A mark of a fool is claiming to be first after observing only their self; a mark of the intelligent is to wonder what is next.
Continuing a thought by building upon it can be both required and abandoned, often at the same time.
Sorrow, from despair, is borrowed, to be returned tomorrow.
Sorrow borrowed is sorrow lost; sorrow kept is sorrow wept.
They who fault someone for their minor mistakes may, themselves, be faulted for missing their attainment.