my favorite pen is this $420 amethyst-gold-plated-crusted-ruby angel pen that only writes in platinum ink straight from heaven
Me, a Poor College Student:
my favorite pen is that one free pen someone gave me at campus fest freshman year that I have lost about 7 times, and yet it somehow miraculously always turns up again in my bookbag
For the last few days my Psychology professor has been asking,
‘Why do you fear failure?’
And I don’t agree with any of the answers.
I fear failure because I understand that time is important and time is limited.
It’s one of the most important investments and I don’t want to lose my money.
I fear failure because I understand the concept of opportunity cost.
What I missed because I devoted myself to this particular cause.
What was the cost of being involved in this?
Perhaps another better experience!
I fear failure because this one life isn’t enough for everything I want to accomplish.
I don’t want to die thinking I made no difference.
I fear failure because each time I face it, it holds my hand and very gently shoves me back into my comfort zone I had finally abandoned.
a journey that we’re all on voluntarily or not. and the one common thing that we all have burrowed in our story is that we’re born and we die.
different in every other way like the way we take a shower or how we feel about god
or the colour of our toothbrushes and what we do in the middle. the content. the body. chapter two to fin. we’re all catapulted into our lives with no warning and honestly if you step back and really look life is filled with perpetual emptiness and reaching and searching and then it stops being that forever and maybe you didn’t ask for that either. we’re flying. not gracefully not romantically. just flying sort of floating stumbling and when we hit the ground it’s over. and I just feel like fuck it, if I’m flying I want to do some flips.
I want to do some stunts. I want to enjoy this. I want to eat brownies way after suppe time. I want to leave and leave from where I’ve left.
To worship wherever I can and be grateful for loss. I just want to be.
I am going to hit the ground one day. You are going to die.
Maybe you believe in eternal life maybe you believe that you soak the soil and grow trees from your bones.
But the end is the end. Know that.
Whether you hoarded your money or stood at a robot. I’m not talking about how we affect anybody else or the responsibility we have to our family or the many many obligations we have just because. Im talking about You. Me.
How I live for myself. I want to do all I can and all I want to in the little or infinite time I have. I want to be present in my memories.
I want to consider myself before anybody else. Not in a morbid lonely way. Maybe a little selfishly. Because honestly there is not a point to any of this.
heaven is heaven and hell is whatever you fear but you exist right now at this moment and that is both remarkable and insignificant.
And your life doesn’t matter when you’re not alive anymore homie.