Sometimes I worry if I quit smoking I’ll stop having good ideas.
Understand that money not going directly toward rent, bills, or hollow but necessary needs does not automatically qualify as “fun money.”
No one loves like that anymore. Why.
Sometimes, when people say “I’m here for you,” they mean “I’m here for a while, for an hour or an evening. You’re a generally good person and I enjoy your company and I know you have to vent right now, so I’ll listen; I’ll even bring the beers if you want. But I probably won’t stay the night.”
To what extent do our beliefs influence our actions?
Last week, I experienced a first — a first to-my-face criticism (instead of behind my back, as is customary of most normal humans) of my outfit.
If you have a car, a job, a house, some combination of the two or all three, your life is a dream made of spun sugar and unicorn farts and you have no right to ever be sad.
And you get this sudden impulse to weep or just touch them actually to make sure they’re real and wish you could borrow their strength for a moment because your own bones are crumbling.
When someone asks me what’s in blood sausage.
Do I really need to keep anything, though? Does anyone? I don’t know. More often than not, we don’t actually ever look in the memory box; we just like to know it’s there.