"there are two primary choices in life; to accept conditions as they exist, or accept the responsibility for changing
them" yes. would this be too long for a tattoo?
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nuttin_but_mud- September 24th, 2009
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- nuttin_but_mud
- August 19th, 2009
i think i'm at a point in my life, at the moment, where i'll look back someday and think "how the hell did we get it
all done? how did we get through it?" the only choice we have is to keep moving forward and to continuously
re-prioritize, sometimes from hour to hour, moment to moment. it's a lesson in, something. i'll get back to you
when some portion of it has reached it's denouement and the lesson is learned. it's really funny actually, we have
to choose to view life this way or it's going to get freaking overwhelming, how shite just ,keeps piling. Big,
important stuff like parents going into the hospital never to return, house buying and little stuff like a dryer that
incessantly squeaks, vomit, the day to day piles of neverending laundry, dishes, homework. it's the stuff that
can bury you or the stuff that you rise to, face head on and just keep going. that being said, time to switch over
the laundry.
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- nuttin_but_mud
- May 18th, 2009
sometimes too many decisions can be a bad thing. Is it too lazy to wait for the effluvia to send an answer when there is a deadline? At what point does one say "screw it" and just randomly choose a direction in which to go? Or is it really random if you've been over all the possible scenarios a thousand times? How can a decision be made if the priorities change from moment to moment? I will only know in hindsight if the direction we choose to go will be the right one. and the path will not be chosen with any amount of certainty.
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- nuttin_but_mud
- March 4th, 2009
I think it's utterly retarded that I have to pay $15 to rename my LJ account. So there. mia
- God I miss these guys.
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- nuttin_but_mud
- October 25th, 2008
- I'm afraid to turn around.
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- nuttin_but_mud
- October 2nd, 2008
I'm sitting at my computer which is in our living room, in a corner, flanked by two bookshelves (will we ever NOT have particle board furniture?) I focus on the monitor...almost to a hypnotic state. It would be fair to accuse me of being addicted to the internet, but I think just as likely the cause for my attention to it is the fact that my apartment looks like it has been ransacked by two very small, young criminals. Fairy dresses and trucks, princess accessories and magnets and tinker toys, and various bits of disregarded and neglected food items that all too often are not detected until one either sits in it or steps on it.
Why is it so hard to maintain such a minute living space? We are intelligent. We have degrees. We know how to do this. So why can't we do it? It's like a mystery comparable to a black hole. We can surmise what would be on the other side, but are we willing to take the journey to get there?
"Take us out, Number 1. Engage."
"Warp 3, Captain?"
"Nah. Let's do about 5 miles per hour."
Cleanliness. The Final Frontier.
