I have been told that if I am not following anyone I won't see anything and I counter by continuing to stare into the abyss.
Interestingly, people that claim they are too cool to dance almost always create the most stylish fruit platters.
Yes, I will continue to split hairs all evening, or split all hairs this evening, or split the evening up by recreating hairdos from different eras.
I was raised to believe that there is no such thing as too much leavening in unleavened bread. I was also raised to never look up the word leavening in the dictionary.
I can't stop monitoring my daughters while they sleep which has kept them safe but has drastically effected both mine and my wife's sleep as to collect and analyze the data I had to convert our bedroom into a high-tech work space complete with....
Since I was a little boy I have been told that "you are what you eat" and I know! Thank you peanut butter, pickle, cheese and banana sandwiches I owe everything to you (plus you've been such a great friend all of these years as well)!
I have been known to sharpen pencils obsessively, never quite being satisfied with the level of sharpness obtained.
I am always hearing the sound of hands clapping off in the distance growing louder and louder, almost as if I am a prize fighter coming down the tunnel with glittered confetti raining down on me from the rafters except that I am actually just sitting in my room playing with stuffed animals that are acting really immaturely.
I want to bake a loaf of bread that is so dense, so heavy, so thick that it nearly collapses into itself, but not quite.
I sometimes wonder if the only reason I am always melting wax onto my arms and legs causing burns and welts is because of the huge amount of wax I was given on my 25th birthday.
I am so fortunate that the symptoms I have are so asymptomatic that my doctor dropped everything he was doing and gave me a standing ovation.
To speed things up, I have decided to only read every fifth word in my book, which helps me complete the required reading much faster and greatly increases the chance of me completely misunderstanding the intent and focus of the author. For example, the spring I read a book that appeared from it's cover to be on tending flower gardens in the Pacific Northwest, but came across much more pro-fascist with a hint towards using flowers as a means towards repressing the masses.
I can imagine that cows must feel ultra-weird when they walk down the dairy aisle at the store and at least slightly conflicted when they enjoy the milk and cheese they bought as secretly as they could.
I really want to click an actual mouse.
I really want to find more opportunities in life to utilize my brining skills outside of making olives as my wife's tolerance for having many nooks and crannies in our house filled with jars and jars of olives is running thin to say the least.
I love indirect contact not because it is safe (which it is) and not because I have slightly sweaty hands (I do) and not because I am afraid of actual contact with other human beings as just one more example of being slightly paranoid and antisocial (I'm not), no, I love indirect contact because of the beautiful and stunning abstract art that naturally is derived from it.
I often go against my best judgement as part of a mostly imagined agreement I have made with the judge who is actually my roommate who just enjoys wearing black robes wherever he goes.
When I choose to share my toys with others, the joke is actually on them because what they don't realize is that the stock in the toy company has recently plummeted rendering these used toys mostly worthless outside of any misplaced sentimentality which is easily countered by my rental fee which is bordering on usury.
They say that no man is an island, but I beg to differ as I am fairly certain that "they" have no idea who I really am.
I can't stop monitoring my daughters while they sleep which has kept them safe but has drastically effected both mine and my wife's sleep as to collect and analyze the data I had to convert our bedroom into a high-tech work space complete with....
Since I was a little boy I have been told that "you are what you eat" and I know! Thank you peanut butter, pickle, cheese and banana sandwiches I owe everything to you (plus you've been such a great friend all of these years as well)!
I have been known to sharpen pencils obsessively, never quite being satisfied with the level of sharpness obtained.
I am always hearing the sound of hands clapping off in the distance growing louder and louder, almost as if I am a prize fighter coming down the tunnel with glittered confetti raining down on me from the rafters except that I am actually just sitting in my room playing with stuffed animals that are acting really immaturely.
I want to bake a loaf of bread that is so dense, so heavy, so thick that it nearly collapses into itself, but not quite.
I sometimes wonder if the only reason I am always melting wax onto my arms and legs causing burns and welts is because of the huge amount of wax I was given on my 25th birthday.
I am so fortunate that the symptoms I have are so asymptomatic that my doctor dropped everything he was doing and gave me a standing ovation.
To speed things up, I have decided to only read every fifth word in my book, which helps me complete the required reading much faster and greatly increases the chance of me completely misunderstanding the intent and focus of the author. For example, the spring I read a book that appeared from it's cover to be on tending flower gardens in the Pacific Northwest, but came across much more pro-fascist with a hint towards using flowers as a means towards repressing the masses.
I can imagine that cows must feel ultra-weird when they walk down the dairy aisle at the store and at least slightly conflicted when they enjoy the milk and cheese they bought as secretly as they could.
I really want to click an actual mouse.
I really want to find more opportunities in life to utilize my brining skills outside of making olives as my wife's tolerance for having many nooks and crannies in our house filled with jars and jars of olives is running thin to say the least.
I love indirect contact not because it is safe (which it is) and not because I have slightly sweaty hands (I do) and not because I am afraid of actual contact with other human beings as just one more example of being slightly paranoid and antisocial (I'm not), no, I love indirect contact because of the beautiful and stunning abstract art that naturally is derived from it.
I often go against my best judgement as part of a mostly imagined agreement I have made with the judge who is actually my roommate who just enjoys wearing black robes wherever he goes.
When I choose to share my toys with others, the joke is actually on them because what they don't realize is that the stock in the toy company has recently plummeted rendering these used toys mostly worthless outside of any misplaced sentimentality which is easily countered by my rental fee which is bordering on usury.
They say that no man is an island, but I beg to differ as I am fairly certain that "they" have no idea who I really am.
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