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judge less, love more.

the power of positive thought. the power of thought, rather.

the places your mind can go.

i often look back and think, “what the Fuck was i thinking?”. i need to focus more on what i am doing right Now. i am attempting to express a decent, encompassing collection of particularly profound (by my Memory’s standards, at least) thoughts that indicate particularly significant (dictated by my most accessible, bias Discretion) thoughts that i have thunk. i get annoyed by long wordy sentences.

“choose your own Path”

roll with the punches,
relax with the flow-
Breathe
nothing is as Bad or as Good as it seems.

yesterday, i saw an NCAA basketball game on the television. i laughed out loud remembering how old the NCAA players looked on TV when i was in high school.

we are all swirling and zooming through space!

“like a river flows, surely to the sea…”

this is an ongoing list….

 

 

 

the view from the front of my house this afternoon. i wish the picture could do ‘er more justice 😀

 

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smug

    [smuhg] Show IPA Pronunciation  

–adjective, smug⋅ger, smug⋅gest. 

 

1. contentedly confident of one’s ability, superiority, or correctness; complacent.
2. trim; spruce; smooth; sleek.

 

 

i love to feel smug. 

 

(found from a google image search “smug”):
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my parents recently celebrated their 31st wedding anniversary. call me a bad daughter, but i lost track of what year they were on somewhere in the early 20’s. its sorta like when my dad turned 57 last may. ever since he turned 5o he’s always been an early-50-something in my mind. when i realized he was closer to 60 than 50 it was like bamboombah whoa! 31 years. not bad mommy and daddy, not bad at all.

they met in modesto california, my dad’s hometown. my mom had recently graduated college in wiscANsin and moved west to work with special needs children. my dad was her waiter in a restaurant. the first time they hung out they ate bagels and listened to records (not much changes in the lovely early-twenties dating world, eh? or maybe like parents like daughter? i dunno, that just seems like a familiar type of activity.) she was a sheltered, catholic good-girl from a teeny town in northern wisconsin. he was an eccentric free-spirit hippy of sorts. i love them to death.

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i spend a lot of time in the past. to be cliche, life is short.

my ideal future:

i have found, stumbled upon or been blessed with a career that i enjoy. i do not dread going to work every day. rather, i feel inspired by how i spend my time. motivated, fueled and assertive. i live by the water, preferably a river or ocean. the sun shines and the skies blaze bright blue more days than not. i get enough sleep and let myself dream. physical and psychological vices do not take precedence over health and introspective growth. self-loathing, jealousy and insatiable boredom are petty remnants of the past, like my beliefs in santa claus or fairytale endings. life does not lack adventure. my loves are as passionate as they are calming. my children replace much of my self centerdness. i treat my family with the love and thoughtfulness they deserve; an infinitely immense amount, but i will try. i listen, forgive and never stop learning.

a clinical psychologist likened depression to a “flat, stuck place”.

i imagined a gray, limitless expanse full of nothingness. not a room, not a plane, not anything really. nothingness.

she continued, “you have all these option, directions leading every way and you are in the center of it all”

i imagined a compass rose. a plethora of pathways and directions to chose from. north, south, east and west. everything in between.

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“you feel stuck in the middle. all of the options swirl around you and you feel lost.”

 

like standing paralyzed in the eye of a swastika-tornado.

“…Watch out for love 
(unless it is true, 
and every part of you says yes including the toes), 
it will wrap you up like a mummy, 
and your scream won’t be heard 
and none of your running will end. 

Love? Be it man. Be it woman. 
It must be a wave you want to glide in on, 
give your body to it, give your laugh to it, 
give, when the gravelly sand takes you, 
your tears to the land. To love another is something 
like prayer and can’t be planned, you just fall 
into its arms because your belief undoes your disbelief…”

sexton

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