“I turned the faucet as cold and as strong as it could go. The water gurbled up the pipes, sounding like the heartbeat in my ears, and I was then met with an ice-cold blast of water to the face.”
“Powerful people,” he writes, “impress and intimidate by saying less. The more you say, the more likely you are to say something foolish.” I think of this law when I am about to tweet, when I am considering an email, when I am coming up with marketing materials. Less is almost always more.
There are still tons of young, strapping, man-bun-clad men out there who still favor real world relationships over digital fantasies who are brave enough to walk up to a woman, look her in the eyes, and start a genuine conversation.
Sometimes no amount of discipline can influence a body. Sometimes discipline is just an excuse to punish ourselves: I will make my muscles ache and my lungs scream for air, because I am not yet a good enough version of myself.
It feels like momentarily forgetting your convictions for those few moments of bliss, with your senses consumed by that rich chocolate bar swaddled within that foil wrapper.
If I had given the angel on the other shoulder a chance to rebut, she would have explained the foolish tradeoff I was making. I gain twenty minutes or so of low-brow pleasure.
The cat’s out of the bag, people: cultivating an appropriate amount of restraint and/or self-discipline is what adulthood is really about.
Wouldn’t it be totally annoying to have a conversation with someone who would rather bellyache for hours than devote the same amount of time to addressing these issues? Yeah. That annoying person is you, gurl. Not a good look.