Actions instead of words

Caught in a whirlwind of sets of states of energy called thoughts within a central nervous system of which the spongy portion we call the brain is supposed to be an important portion…

Wondering who someone with my name is like.

Because my life with my name took a different tack.

Fictionalised part of it.

More than once.

Or twice.

History repeats itself sometimes, too — novella description from Oct 30 2008:

Even breathing has consequences.

Lee loved his wife unconditionally. Yet, just as domestic love wanted to rivet him down for good, Lee desired to explore free love. Does free love include sex? Is there really no such thing as a free lunch?

Fredirique entered Lee’s life and turned it upside down. Will Lee surrender to Fredirique’s fun and games in the city or will Lee return to the quiet domestic bliss he’d learn to savor in the suburbs?

Lee thought he had to pay the price for unrequited love, his guilty conscience serving in his mind as judge and jury — will he give himself a life sentence or time off for good behavior?

Some people are driven to have so much fun, to push themselves past where pain would stop most everyone else, to achieve accomplishments that no other member of our species has or will again.

I danced because I liked to have fun — my willingness to memorise long sequences of dance moves, to memorise any long sequence at all, has never been my strong suit — thus, I let myself flail around rather than succumb to suppressing my unwillingness to control my body/thoughts in specific contortions.

I love life.  My goals are simple: to live.

The wild, uncontrollable part of me is not so wild or uncontrollable as others — not the least nor most wildest, not the least nor most uncontrollable.

However, on this planet we should allow each other to be as wild or uncontrollable as we want as long as we don’t adversely interfere with the same from others.

Civilisation is the intersection of our concepts of wild and uncontrollable, in almost infinite form.

Today, I piece back together thought patterns in an attempt to remove the repetitively painful portions…

To return to my peaceful self again.

Meditating in nature.

Happiness is being myself.

Myself being fluid yet fixed.

Despite years of writing blog entries, still the most popular one read every week: where/when I mentioned the Seven Ages of Man.

I am happy to die today.  I have made peace with myself.

I can breathe.

No need to compare my life to others.

I can write about the peace of breathing but words do not do the breathing for me.

Have a great day!  Time to spend more time breathing, less time writing.

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