Its long been a matter of fascination for me .
Why do we spend so much of our lives waiting for things to happen instead of making them happen ?
Its a question that is never far from my mind day in day out as i fool myself into believing that one day i will take my own advise and that im merely biding my time not wasting it .
But the truth is im no wiser than the next person .
Just because i realise my mistake doesnt mean its any less of an error to sit back and let the chances and time in my life so short and fleeting pass me by .
And if anything that realisation only makes it all the more difficult to live with .
Which brings me back to the intial question , a never ending circle of apathy then motivation then excuses back to apathy again .
It would seem that breaking that circle is as simple as acting on a thought yet as difficult as not acting on another ....is that the answer ?
Do we simply have to do the things we want and stop doing the things we dont to fullfill our needs and become happy with our life ?
Perhaps it is that simple and all the complications we use as excuses are simply that ...reasons not to take the chances we are afraid to take.
Too serious ?
Yes your right ....this isnt what im always about far from it which is part of the problem but hell you cant make with the funnies straight off can you ?
Got to at least give the impression you have depth before you launch into the fart jokes ?
Over analysise and humour ....thats more what im made up of with a little whimsy thrown in everynow and then to pander to my dreamer status .
Sunday 1 July 2007
This is not a beginning ...
This is not a beginning ...
Well at least its not a beginning for me but it is for you .
Not sure what i mean ?
Well let me clarify ...something ive forever felt the need to do .
Ive written all my life .
On scraps of paper.
On stolen school jotters.
In letters to the people i love .
In birthday cards and invitations and notes to the milkman .
And now i write on a bright neon lettered screen on my lap surrounded by the familiar belongings of my home .
So you see its not a beginning for me .
You cant begin something you've already started long ago .
Well at least its not a beginning for me but it is for you .
Not sure what i mean ?
Well let me clarify ...something ive forever felt the need to do .
Ive written all my life .
On scraps of paper.
On stolen school jotters.
In letters to the people i love .
In birthday cards and invitations and notes to the milkman .
And now i write on a bright neon lettered screen on my lap surrounded by the familiar belongings of my home .
So you see its not a beginning for me .
You cant begin something you've already started long ago .
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