I imagine that having a pet squirrel would be amazing. Like, wouldn’t it be really ticklish and weird if they climbed all over you? And what if you could train them to grab you small things off the top shelf and stuff? That’d be fantastic.
Having seen more than my share of both in my time, I’ve recently started pondering the effects of those kinds of uninformed opinions and the effects they have on a person.
Empty praise is the result of good intentions, but as we all know good intentions by themselves rarely ever lead to anything that’s actually . . . Good. Being told that you have a talent that you don’t actually possess can cause you to waste your time pursuing something that you no interest or marketable talent in which could lead to a feeling of a life led running in the wrong direction. However, sometimes some arguably undeserved praise early on in the pursuit of your goal can give you the drive to keep going. Sometimes the key to success is simply being too stupid to know when to give up as the old saying goes.
Baseless criticism is extremely, extremely common. Just post your works onto any online forum made for people to judge works of your medium and you’ll learn the hard way within hours. If that doesn’t effect your self-esteem at least a little bit then you’re a stronger person than I. This sort of thing drives many people away from doing what they love. With that said though if absolutely nobody thinks you have a particular talent that you believe that you have . . . There’s a chance that they may be right.
Personally I pay more attention to my critics than those who praise me. Sure, part of it may be personal insecurities, but sometimes it’s just easier to sift through endless criticisms for something that’s well-written and informative than to ponder who’s praising me because they feel that they should for whatever reason, y’know? Not that I don’t enjoy genuine praise of course!
I’ve always been somewhat amused that one of the things people generally do after being drenched during a downpour from a mixture of water from the rain and moisture from sweat is to go home and take a shower in more water. I mean, I understand why that’s necessary and all. I’m just amused.
Whelp, that’s all I had to say on that. I went to dailypost.wordpress.com and found this gem for today:
Beach, mountain, forest, or somewhere else entirely?”
Is . . . I don’t even understand if that’s a question? Although if I was to spend an extensive amount of time traveling in any of those environments I guess I would need a shower afterwards.
You know what? I’m not done talking about showers yet.
I know I’ve touched on the misfortune of having frightening thoughts about spiders and stuff while you’re washing your face and you can’t open your eyes because you’ll get soap/shampoo in them so you’re just stuck with those thoughts for several seconds but . . . There are good thoughts that happen in the shower as well. The shower is the one place in the world that’s still internet/smartphone free, so it’s the one place in the world that everyone can just take a few minutes and have a thought. Or two on a good day. So until I get a waterproof cover for my phone I guess that’ll always be the best place for ideas.
Maybe I should’ve tried to write something after a shower because I clearly don’t have any clue on what I should be writing about right now.
I was monitoring my monitor looking for miniature Minotaurs to go on a mini-tour through Ecuador. As both bodyguards and storytellers they simply can’t be beat. After about 17 hours of fruitlessly staring at my screen I decided that the whole thing was a waste of time. Partially because I’m not actually going on any sort of tour, but mostly because Minotaurs don’t exist anyway.
Shutting off my computer, I decided to lay down on my carpet. Sometimes you just gotta lay on the floor, you know what I mean? If you don’t understand then I don’t know what to say. Anyhoo . . . My eyelids began to feel heavy, the lack of sleep finally beginning to catch up with me.
Not knowing how long I had dozed off for, I awoke gently. Unfortunately that was the last gentle moment that I would ever experience.
Ever get that feeling where you stick to a chair after sitting on it in your underwear/while nude for so long? I was getting that feeling from carpet. I tried to get up but couldn’t move. I looked over and was horrified to see that I was quickly being swallowed up by the carpet.
Before I knew it I was one with the carpet. Or to be more accurate, one within the carpet. It was odd. The mass of carpet grew around me as I remained in the center. I didn’t understand what was happening, nor did I have any way of knowing just how far and how fast this mass of carpet was growing. It was like my own little world. But isn’t wasn’t a very nice world. I was still completely stuck. I guess coffin would be a better word for it? Yeah, let’s go with coffin.
For some reason I felt like I had gone through this many times before. I simply closed my eyes and accepted my impending death. My living room floor is my home now, and layers of dirt that vacuum cleaners miss are the only things I know. The last thing I felt before passing out from a lack of air was a rather fuzzy feeling.
I would eventually awake in a grassy field. And only the panda suit remained . . .
On dailypost.wordpress.com there’s a daily topic to write about. So here’s today’s: “A genie has granted your wish to build your perfect space for reading and writing. What’s it like?”
I know it can be hard to come up with something unique to write about every day, but jeez.
Assuming I was given a limited number of wishes why would I waste one on a space for reading and writing? Even if I wanted something like that I could wish for a more general, quiet place with a section for reading and writing like a grand garden in the sky or whatever. But even then I’m sure there are a list of things I’d wish for before that. Like some sort of superpower or infinite cash (Then I could just buy the perfect space!), etc.
Then there’s the value of a perfect space for reading and writing. I won’t question that for a small percentage of the population micromanaging one’s space for such activities helps to absorb information and encourages creativity, but for most people wouldn’t something as simple as a spare room do the trick just fine? Hell, I do most of my favourite writing on post-it notes before typing it up. Not that I have any place to tell people anything about writing.
I dunno, I just feel that with all that goes on in the world one would be able to craft good questions that are more universally relatable.
So recently I mentioned how I grew up in a small fishing village and moved to a city right after high school. After over seven years I’ve adjusted fairly well but every once in a while something still blows my mind. Over the years I was all like “Woah” when:
– I found out that bus monitors are a thing. People get paid to supervise children on school buses? I thought the driver was supposed the supervisor as well ha ha.
– On that note, some schools have an in-house police officer!? Dude. When I was in high school it was a huge deal when someone got busted for having weed in their locker that one time.
– So I was living with a couple friends a couple years ago and as I was walking down the hallway to our 8th floor apartment, it hit me. This single building has a larger population than my hometown.
– Wait, jaywalking laws are actually enforced? Huh.
– OH MAN THERE’S MORE THAN TWO PIZZA PLACES/BARS/ANYTHING WHAT IS THIS?
– Not everybody sits around a campfire every weekend and drinks while talking about some other time they were sitting around a campfire while drinking. Neat.
– Seeing three Tim Horton’s on the same street within a city block of each other. I’d love to have a business so successful that I can open that many stores so close together with all of them being profitable.