Two rules of life:
1 – no one is going to judge you when you die. Except you.
2 – you have a *single* shot to make this particular conglomerate of circumstances as fucking amazing as possible. So do what ignites your soul.
And that’s fucking it.
Two rules of life:
1 – no one is going to judge you when you die. Except you.
2 – you have a *single* shot to make this particular conglomerate of circumstances as fucking amazing as possible. So do what ignites your soul.
And that’s fucking it.
or something like that.
Anyway.
Back in the day, i took a comparative theology class. Absolutely fascinating, by the way! In any case, I quickly found that there were common concepts or thoughts that carried through all of them. I couldn’t help but think that they were culturally diverse expressions of the same thing.
Now, I just found myself overwhelmed with the same feeling when thinking about quantum mechanics, spirituality, consciousness, and shit like that. And the funny thing is, the ‘same thing’ from religion applies here too, just wildly different language.
The problem is the fact that no one has been able to articulate this ‘ same thing’ in a way that is understandable across languages and times…
is it possible that language and culture are roadblocks to fully understanding existence?
Sometimes… my brain is weird.
i’ll be having a conversation, right? And the other person asks me a question. instead of thinking through a response, my brain puts up this message with two responses (generally, one super direct and/or sarcastic, and one more muted and compassionate.) and demands that i choose before speaking can be initiated. if i don’t choose, i can’t process words to speak. and if i’m caught off guard, when i do choose, i sometimes stumble over my words.
Does anyone else experience this??
I’m coming to realize that i think of sitting down to a real meal with full sized plates and multiple utensils as nothing but a chore.
Seriously.
If i can get quality sustenance via grabbing snacks, why wouldn’t i do that? That literally gives me one cooking mess to clean up for the week rather than one every fucking day. I do a small variety of snacks so that i can have choices during the week depending on my mood. And, i get to have that extra 30-45 minutes every night to do whatever the fuck i want, not something that is strictly a requirement of living. Plus, if i’m in the middle of something at dinner time, i don’t have to stop what i’m doing for more than 3 minutes to grab a snack.
This makes so much sense to me, and now that i’ve seen this idea, i can’t unsee it and i wonder why the hell i never saw it before… It’s really the foundation for a killer routine to support how my brain operates.
I haven’t had soda in quite a while, but recently got a couple of bottles – 1 coke, 1 ginger ale. Both bottles went in the fridge after i met my carbonation limit for the day.
Each was only open for about 24 hours.
Both were flat as fuck when i went back for the other half.
Now, i remember when i was younger, early 20s – not little kid type “Back in the day’ – you could put an open bottle of soda in the fridge and it not go flat for a week.
These bottles lasted less than a day…
What the fuck gives??
I just saw something that said, ‘I have the power to rewrite my story’.
I disagree with this statement. You can’t rewrite your story; the past is what the past is. you can’t change that, nor should you want to. Everything in life – good, bad, and ugly – is a lesson. and i’m gonna take a wild stab at the fact that if you’re thinking about rewriting your story, then it’s pretty likely that you learned those lessons, and wouldn’t want to lose that wisdom.
So perhaps what the person who wrote this meant was not that they have the power to rewrite their story, but that they are claiming authorship going forward…
Take out a ruler, or a tape measure. Go ahead, it’s ok, I’m not gonna trick you into doing anything stupid, i promise. ok, got the measuring device? Take a look at how big one inch is. I mean really look, compare it to the size of your fingers, other shit you have sitting around, whatever. Really take it in.
Now…Imagine having a hole that big going straight through some part of your body.
Your gut clenched a bit, didn’t it? Or you winced a smidge. Yeah, me too.
But then I realized that the goal i have for my ears will do exactly that. My ears are at 9/16″, with a goal to return to the 3/4″ i once had. Imagining that size hole in my ear lobe doesn’t make my gut clench, it makes my heart happy.
So, yeah, context fucking matters!
Where the hell do racing thoughts come from, and where are they going in such a fuckin hurry?
I mean seriously.
The racing thoughts come on gradually, and at first, i can keep up. But then, all of a sudden they’re racing around faster and faster and i completely space out for a sec.
It happens kinda like when you go to a restaurant and it it’s not crowded, but people filter in. The next thing you know, it’s super crowded and almost painfully loud in the restaurant. All you can think of is leaving.
But anyway, the thoughts come from everywhere and nowhere.
Damnit.
I got interrupted and have no idea where this was going. gotta read this quick, hold please!
…Right, where do racing thoughts come from? Are they simply normal thoughts on adrenaline? Do people prone to racing thoughts enter a state where they have momentary deeper access to subconscious thought processes?
Is this a potential mental super power?? Is it possible to bring on racing thoughts intentionally? if so, can you train yourself to get better at keeping up, which would eventually make that a quasi permanent state?
could racing thoughts be jet fuel for inspiration in the right context?
Laura took a bite of her dinner.
Mom always yelled at me to not bring books to the dinner table...
Laura smiled, pulled out her phone and started her latest audiobook.
Look Ma, no books!
Laura giggled to herself and continued eating.