I’m beginning (again) to realize this life does not make sense. What is the meaning of it … if you don’t have children, or a husband, or a job? At the end of it all, would anyone even knew I was here?

Not likely.

I can’t sit here and rightly cry about what might have been, for I chose it. All of it.

If a person lays crap here, and crappy attitude there, to that one, and over there to another, and so on … ALL of that will boomerang back. Little mini boomerangs being returned to the gifter … and the gifter cannot possibly catch them all, not even close. They will return, whacking the gifter up along side the head, hitting various parts of the body, tearing down the energetic and mental form. Perhaps even causing physical illness.

When will we tire of dodging boomerangs? Those turns which we create?

When we choose to put out nice stuff, rather than the stuff that hurts, it will not matter if we catch all the boomerangs. It won’t hurt so bad upon their return when we fail to make the catch if we choose to make our gifts to the others sweet.

I like writing. It assists me in paying closer attention to what I’m thinking about.

Maybe it’s time I practice being optimistic rather than pessimistic. It is said practice makes perfect, and I’ve practiced pessimism just about as long as I’d like … thank you very much.

Whatever happens, don’t go all dooms-dayer on anyone. They will not hear you.

Maybe I’m a distraction … to myself … imagine that. I’m in a river, and I do not swim well. I’ll have to do my best to simply float.

Sssshhhhh …. Control your mind, stop leaking.

The elusive butterfly.

He already knows what spices he’s going to use. What could spices be used for?

Pessimism states, he’s speaking of cooking me.

Optimism states, he’s thinking of bathing me.

Oh, the human mind. Always playing tricks.

Yay for Optimism! May it grow in minds, be shared by hearts, and become all encompassing throughout time, and the world.

And so it is.