When you wish upon a star.... makes no difference who you are....
What about when you WINK up to a star?
I think it suddenly makes a big difference who you are...
It has been a long time since I dribbled any scribbles here
scrabbling for something to say
instead of the usual dilly-dailys
or silly somedays,
or sassy sundries.
All you get is my dirty pantries
full of sour flour and Jell-O NOBODY has room for.
"It's made from hooves, you know..." says the Mr. Burns inside my head.
It's something like "almost 4am" and I am busy wasting time.
Yesterday's 5pm nap doesn't sound so smart after all the anymores.
But, I keep having thoughts where I am beside myself,
wandering the wondering pools that I visit inside myself.
They lead with coastline, I follow.. in a circle.
There is no inlet, no outlet.
Their collective waters do not arrive by falls or
or leave by murmuring trickles
or become thickened with sickening treacles..
so it must be fed underground by a sweet spring
and suckle the sun with evaporated wist
to remain so constant
but stay ever-fresh.
Awhile back I diddled a line about wandering my ponder... wondering my yonder.
Tonight I finished Huxley's "Crome Yellow" and I feel an affinity for writing some of my own balderdash.
If I trusted myself more, or Vonnegut less, I might consider writing some grandfalloons,
but things being what they are, I can only trust my linguistic thrusts to simple acts of
skylarfing, slyfarting, and when money gets short, flyscarfing.
By me. For me. Personal giggles and cryptic wordplay included for free. Sorry ya'll.
Writing anything here is nearly proof that no one else will read it.
This blog may be more private than my diaries in storage.
Such is life.
I will be corrallying my thoughts
Separating the nags from the fillies,
the willies from the nillies.
Taming the wild ones,
but preferring when the wildest ones
stay wild.
Deciding which of the herd is let out to pasture/protest
branded in this dank digital depository,
and which I should sell to the butcher. Cheap.
Recently thought about:
The idea that the road to happiness
is capitalizing your passions.
M-W.com
1: to write or print with an initial capital or in capitals
2a : to convert into capital
b : to treat as an amortizable investment in long-term capital assets rather than as an ordinary operating expense to be charged against revenue for the period in which it is incurred
3a : to compute the present value of (an income extended over a period of time)
b : to convert (a periodic payment) into an equivalent capital sum
4: to supply capital for
intransitive verb: to gain by turning something to advantage
Synonyms and Antonyms of CAPITALIZE: to take unfair advantage of.
Synonyms abuse, capitalize (on), cash in (on), impose (on or upon), leverage, milk, pimp, play (on or upon), use, work
Related Words jerk around, manipulate, mistreat; bleed, cheat, fleece, overcharge, skin, soak, stick; commercialize, commodify
To be honest,
I am much more interested in simply capitalizing Passion in my life,
than capitalizing on my passions in my life.
Being 33, and just starting school for the first time since I was 14
a lot of very smart people are eager to give me advice.
I have been told, in just the last few weeks
MANY things I "should" be doing for work.
I "should" be a counselor or a therapist, I should be a teacher, or a social worker, or a writer, or a comedian, or a sexual health confidante.
Whatever.
IF I LOVE it.. I should do it EVERY DAY FOR MONEY!
OF COURSE that would make me happy!
Um,... no.
No, actually.
But, of course it is GREAT advice from people who worry that
I suffer from fear of success/failure, like they do.
But me?
I just don't like selling my passion.
I will sell almost anything BUT my passion, actually.
Where does that leave me?
Balking at all the barking.
Stalking the talking dogs just to tell them all...
"Shhh,... we mustn't sell the things we are best at,
and that which we love the most.
Their higher value means nothing when 'value' means money.
We should sell the least of what we have to offer..
and keep our actual treasures out of brokers' hands."
But, I'm still thinking...
and thinking..
and thinking....
I think it suddenly makes a big difference who you are...
It has been a long time since I dribbled any scribbles here
scrabbling for something to say
instead of the usual dilly-dailys
or silly somedays,
or sassy sundries.
All you get is my dirty pantries
full of sour flour and Jell-O NOBODY has room for.
"It's made from hooves, you know..." says the Mr. Burns inside my head.
It's something like "almost 4am" and I am busy wasting time.
Yesterday's 5pm nap doesn't sound so smart after all the anymores.
But, I keep having thoughts where I am beside myself,
wandering the wondering pools that I visit inside myself.
They lead with coastline, I follow.. in a circle.
There is no inlet, no outlet.
Their collective waters do not arrive by falls or
or leave by murmuring trickles
or become thickened with sickening treacles..
so it must be fed underground by a sweet spring
and suckle the sun with evaporated wist
to remain so constant
but stay ever-fresh.
Awhile back I diddled a line about wandering my ponder... wondering my yonder.
Tonight I finished Huxley's "Crome Yellow" and I feel an affinity for writing some of my own balderdash.
If I trusted myself more, or Vonnegut less, I might consider writing some grandfalloons,
but things being what they are, I can only trust my linguistic thrusts to simple acts of
skylarfing, slyfarting, and when money gets short, flyscarfing.
By me. For me. Personal giggles and cryptic wordplay included for free. Sorry ya'll.
Writing anything here is nearly proof that no one else will read it.
This blog may be more private than my diaries in storage.
Such is life.
I will be corrallying my thoughts
Separating the nags from the fillies,
the willies from the nillies.
Taming the wild ones,
but preferring when the wildest ones
stay wild.
Deciding which of the herd is let out to pasture/protest
branded in this dank digital depository,
and which I should sell to the butcher. Cheap.
Recently thought about:
The idea that the road to happiness
is capitalizing your passions.
M-W.com
1: to write or print with an initial capital or in capitals
2a : to convert into capital
b : to treat as an amortizable investment in long-term capital assets rather than as an ordinary operating expense to be charged against revenue for the period in which it is incurred
3a : to compute the present value of (an income extended over a period of time)
b : to convert (a periodic payment) into an equivalent capital sum
4: to supply capital for
intransitive verb: to gain by turning something to advantage
Synonyms and Antonyms of CAPITALIZE: to take unfair advantage of.
Synonyms abuse, capitalize (on), cash in (on), impose (on or upon), leverage, milk, pimp, play (on or upon), use, work
Related Words jerk around, manipulate, mistreat; bleed, cheat, fleece, overcharge, skin, soak, stick; commercialize, commodify
To be honest,
I am much more interested in simply capitalizing Passion in my life,
than capitalizing on my passions in my life.
Being 33, and just starting school for the first time since I was 14
a lot of very smart people are eager to give me advice.
I have been told, in just the last few weeks
MANY things I "should" be doing for work.
I "should" be a counselor or a therapist, I should be a teacher, or a social worker, or a writer, or a comedian, or a sexual health confidante.
Whatever.
IF I LOVE it.. I should do it EVERY DAY FOR MONEY!
OF COURSE that would make me happy!
Um,... no.
No, actually.
But, of course it is GREAT advice from people who worry that
I suffer from fear of success/failure, like they do.
But me?
I just don't like selling my passion.
I will sell almost anything BUT my passion, actually.
Where does that leave me?
Balking at all the barking.
Stalking the talking dogs just to tell them all...
"Shhh,... we mustn't sell the things we are best at,
and that which we love the most.
Their higher value means nothing when 'value' means money.
We should sell the least of what we have to offer..
and keep our actual treasures out of brokers' hands."
But, I'm still thinking...
and thinking..
and thinking....