Reset, readjust, restart, refocus.As many times as you need to.
Just don't quit!
I never feared about my skills because I put in the work. Work ethic eliminates fear.
So if you put forth the work, what are you fearing? You know what you're capable of doing and what you're not.
-- Michael Jordan
MermaidDiagram Comment.
The only thing worse than a boy who hates you: a boy that loves you.
Even death has a heart.
Sometimes people are beautiful.Not in looks.Not in what they say.Just in what they are.
Maybe everyone can live beyond what they're capable of.
Usually we walk around constantly believing ourselves. "I'm okay" we say. "I'm alright". But sometimes the truth arrives on you and you can't get it off. That's when you realize that sometimes it isn't even an answer--it's a question. Even now, I wonder how much of my life is convinced.
It kills me sometimes, how people die.
A small but noteworthy note. I've seen so many young men over the years who think they're running at other young men. They are not. They are running at me.
A DEFINITION NOT FOUNDIN THE DICTIONARYNot leaving: an act of trust and love,often deciphered by children
He does something to me, that boy. Every time. It’s his only detriment. He steps on my heart. He makes me cry.
Together, they would watch everything that was so carefully planned collapse, and they would smile at the beauty of destruction.
I want words at my funeral. But I guess that means you need life in your life.
I wanted to explain that I am constantly overestimating and underestimating the human race - that rarely do I even simply estimate it. I wanted to ask her how the same thing could be so ugly and so glorious, and its words and stories so damning and brilliant...I AM HAUNTED BY HUMANS.
Can a person steal happiness? Or is just another internal, infernal human trick?
She wanted none of those days to end, and it was always with disappointment that she watched the darkness stride forward.
If only she could be so oblivious again, to feel such love without knowing it, mistaking it for laughter.
So much good, so much evil. Just add water.
A halo surrounded the grim reaper nun, Sister Maria. (By the way-I like this human idea of the grim reaper. I like the scythe. It amuses me.)
***HERE IS A SMALL FACT*** You are going to die.
It was a year for the ages, like 79, like 1346, to name just a few. Forget the scythe, Goddamn it, I needed a broom or a mop. And I needed a vacation.
Even now, I wonder how much of my life is convinced.
It's funny, don't you think, how time seems to do a lot of things? It flies, it tells, and worst of all, it runs out.
Grimly, she realized that clocks don't make a sound that even remotely resembles ticking, tocking. It was more the sound of a hammer, upside down, hacking methodically at the earth. It was the sound of a grave.
... And the boy whose hair remained the color of lemons forever.
for some reason, dying men always ask the question they know the answer to. perhaps it's so they can die being right.
If they killed him tonight, at least he would die alive.
He killed himself for wanting to live.
***A KEY WORD*** Imagined
It makes me wonder, Do we spend most of our days trying to remember or forget things? Do we spend most of our time running towards or away from our lives? I don't know.
Papa was a man with silver eyes, not dead ones. Papa was an accordion! But his bellows were all empty. Nothing went in and nothing came out.
My own eyes try to sleep, but they don't. They stay wide awake as time snarls forward and silence drops down, like measured thought.
It is early, early morning. It's that time when it's still dark but you know the day is coming. Blue is bleeding through black. Stars are dying.
It felt as though the whole globe was dressed in snow. Like it has pulled it on, the way you pull on a sweater. Next to the train line, footprints were sunken to their shins. Trees wore blankets of ice. As you may expect, someone has died.
Death waits for no man - and if he does, he doesn't usually wait for very long.
How do you tell if something's alive? You check for breathing.
Still, they have one thing I envy. Humans, if nothing else, have the good sense to die.
The bombs were coming-and so was I.
Time will tell, I suppose, or at least, these pages will.
Why can’t the world hear? I ask myself. Within a few moments I ask it many times. Because it doesn’t care, I finally answer, and I know I’m right. It’s like I’ve been chosen. But chosen for what? I ask.
Very quickly, very suddenly, words fell through my mind. They landed on the floor of my thoughts, and in there, down there, I started to pick the words up. They were excerpts of truth gathered from inside me.
The scribbled signature black, onto the blinding global white, onto the thick soupy red.
I know who you are and I am ready. Not that I want to go, of course, but I will come." Those souls are always light because more of them have been put out.
For two days I went about my business. I travelled the globe as always, handing souls to the conveyor belt of eternity.
Could she smell my breath? Could she hear my cursed circular heart beat revolving like the crime it is in my deathly chest?
If only she could be so oblivious again, to feel such love without knowing it, mistaking it for laughter and bread with only the scent of jam spread out on top of it. It was the best time of her
Knowledge Strategy Execution
Motivation is a byproduct of action, not the catalyst for it.
Control your thoughts or your thoughts will control you.
Today is a new day. Stop living in the past.
Focus on the step in front of you, not the whole staircase.
You attract what you are, not what you want. If you want great, then be great.
Your goals should scare you a little and excite you a lot.
