thomps1d
My couch is tired and worn, and most days I feel the same. Still, it's soft and comfortable, easy to sink in against. Once again, pretty much like me; I love that soft, comfy sofa.
He crouched behind the bushes, peering around to catch a glimpse of his prey. She wasn't prey in the usual sense, not that he planned to kill her and devour her remains; not that he'd entirely eliminated that as an option, either. For now, he merely watched, and waited for the right moment to make his move. He had all the time in the world - an eternity, in fact, barring unfortunate little things like exposure to sunlight or a stake through the heart.
Concern shadows me, follows wherever I go. I get concerned about the weather, about work, my family and friends. Even when things seem good, there's concern - sometimes even concern that I'm not concerned enough about all the dreadfully concerning things in life. Great. Now I'm concerned about whether I'm too concerned about everything.
I'm so close to my good friend whiskey that it's hard to know where to start. We became acquainted far too young, and there's no sign of our relationship fading. I love it, I hate it. It loves me too much.
All of life is gradually becoming obsolete under the ever-advancing wave of science and technology. I'm a geek, so don't get me wrong - I love new and shiny gadgets and toys, but they're gradually destroying the bits of us that make us human. As I age, I'm becoming more and more painfully aware of the fact that there's more to life than a collection of gadgets.
I'm determined to do something today. Maybe not something good, but hopefully not something too bad. Just having the determination will hopefully be enough to get me going; inertia will take over, and I'll let nature run its course.
We're all connected in one way or another. There are the mundane connections of spinning electrons that form the vast telecommunication webs that span the globe. There are emotional connections that draw us, bind us closer, and hurl us apart. There are physical, intimate connections that always end...good or bad, they always end.
I always have plans. They're not always good plans, and very often bad. My favourite plan is always "plan to not have a plan", but somehow there seems to be irony in planning to be without a plan. Spontaneity is great; I can't say that I do very well in life with constant structure looming overhead. Too restrictive for my liking.
Meditation upon the sheer size of the galaxy is a great way to realize how utterly insignificant we all are. Vast depths of blackness, unimaginably ancient, filled with horrors we can't imagine, vistas that we can barely hope to comprehend, and completely ignorant of our very existence. Kinda makes your bad day seem insignificant, huh?
I know that I have one. It likes to be stroked, fed, and petted. I try to set it aside in my day to day life; nobody likes it when they interact with someone with an ego problem (such problems being defined as "his ego is bigger than I think mine is").
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