False(B)logic

I thought this post was good… I found the link on Digg. It appears that the author really doesn’t need or want my link, whatever. The one person who reads this thing (Hi Mom!) will like it and I don’t need anyone else’s love. So here it is. The reason I’m linking it is because it reminds me of myself when I was attending high school. Have studies been done on teenagers? From my dim recollections I was much crueler then than I am now. And I found it hilarious to be so. Moving onward, upward and forever twirling I wanted to write about something… What was it?

I forgot.

Have you ever considered this moment as your last? No, of course not you just like me are immortal and we’ll never die…

Do you find it humorous that our even our bodies and minds lie to us constantly. We pretend that a thing is habitual: normal, repeatable, comforting. We construct our life around them never acknowledging that this is the last cigarette you will ever smoke. That is the last time you’ll go to work. This is the last time you’ll ever kiss her… on and on. Each time is the last time and each moment whether you stretch it across a day or it flutters by on butterfly wings is the last one you’ll have, afterwards it’s forever lost. We are forever doing over and over again new things…

Does it make any sense to you?

So tomorrow another quarter ends and at this point I’m making all sorts of promises to myself that I’m sure to break as soon as it becomes convenient to do so. As my days become open to do those things which I’d really like to do more I begin to fill them with all the activities I’ve been putting off since Sept. The truth though is that my break between this ending quarter and the one beginning in Jan. is going to pass by before I realize it and I’ll look back and see that I spent my time sleeping or vegging in front of the television or computer screen.

Oh, I’ll make plans to go out and do some photography and I’ll pencil in some time to write every morning and a dozen other things I’ve wanted to do but haven’t yet. Cheered just by the thought of doing these things. When the time comes to act though, I will inevitably find myself too tired to leave the house… ‘vacation’ will take place in my bed as usual. Finding the madness in my dreams preferable to the reality that surrounds me…

What do you know. I’m still here, still struggling. Where are the letters back from my representatives in government? An excellent question…