(no subject)
The fragility of the human spirit (or psyche or soul or whatever) never ceases to surprise me.
At this point, after 20 years, I should be very aware of what a thought, or a thing, or the seeing of a person can do to me. The effect it'll have on me, the instantaneous disability to speak, that thing in my gut that simply falls out.
The picture on the front page of the NYTimes looks eerily similar to some of the news clippings I've seen from the Olympics tragedy.
It's weird in the sense that we all go through life,facing certain wars and (more often than not) the inevitable regret (putting ourselves out there). No one wants that-yet, it's a very necessary thing and we're all going to inflict some damage.
Call it life, it's spontaneous and I'm going to stop saying things like this:
It'll be okay.
It'll just take time.
I'm starting to think there's less certainty in this world, less of an ending. I've always gone crazy thinking that life's been planned out for us, and it's getting far easier to believe that where we end up isn't where we're supposed to.
We end up where we do, because of the decisions we make and the decisions made by others that overlap with our lives.
At worst, it's an adventure.
At best, it's a flight
At this point, after 20 years, I should be very aware of what a thought, or a thing, or the seeing of a person can do to me. The effect it'll have on me, the instantaneous disability to speak, that thing in my gut that simply falls out.
The picture on the front page of the NYTimes looks eerily similar to some of the news clippings I've seen from the Olympics tragedy.
It's weird in the sense that we all go through life,facing certain wars and (more often than not) the inevitable regret (putting ourselves out there). No one wants that-yet, it's a very necessary thing and we're all going to inflict some damage.
Call it life, it's spontaneous and I'm going to stop saying things like this:
It'll be okay.
It'll just take time.
I'm starting to think there's less certainty in this world, less of an ending. I've always gone crazy thinking that life's been planned out for us, and it's getting far easier to believe that where we end up isn't where we're supposed to.
We end up where we do, because of the decisions we make and the decisions made by others that overlap with our lives.
At worst, it's an adventure.
At best, it's a flight