(no subject)
Holy hungarian horntails.
What a time, what a TIME, jamming it up, was it real? Never have I been in such an unrealistic state of reality as I was, flowing along those three weeks. Jumping off a forty-five foot bridge, mate! Finding John Lennon, algae dreams, lying on rocks in the dead of night as David played his guitar, knocking on doors and making my way in so comfortably- people, man! Not getting sick of these people- three weeks is the perfect time for the friend chart to quickly escalate and never go down, I tell you.
But I will not think of missing them, for what purpose would that serve? The MOMENT. Focus on the moment.
I need to beach-it, for I am snowman meets cloud white. Appearances, appearances!
Oh, my sweet, non-existant lord. Halleluyah.
And now a pleasing, nonrelated quote:
"You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. You're not your fucking khakis. You're the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world."
...Tyler Durden, Fight Club
What a time, what a TIME, jamming it up, was it real? Never have I been in such an unrealistic state of reality as I was, flowing along those three weeks. Jumping off a forty-five foot bridge, mate! Finding John Lennon, algae dreams, lying on rocks in the dead of night as David played his guitar, knocking on doors and making my way in so comfortably- people, man! Not getting sick of these people- three weeks is the perfect time for the friend chart to quickly escalate and never go down, I tell you.
But I will not think of missing them, for what purpose would that serve? The MOMENT. Focus on the moment.
I need to beach-it, for I am snowman meets cloud white. Appearances, appearances!
Oh, my sweet, non-existant lord. Halleluyah.
And now a pleasing, nonrelated quote:
"You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. You're not your fucking khakis. You're the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world."
...Tyler Durden, Fight Club