working's all right so long as there's a bit of play to follow. and playing's all right so long as there's a bit of work to precede/follow. it's pretty much a neverending cycle, and I'm pretty sure that when you can find the balance between it all, you've reached nirvana.
life's all right sometimes. it's the mysteries that keep me intrigued mainly. and there are plenty of mysteries to choose from. (yes, another preposition at the end, what? do you want me to say "mysteries from which to choose? come on now). dreams are a fun one on which to focus my time (happy?). if only I could remember more of them than just snippets. I feel like I'm taking my own dreams out of context when I can only remember one, maybe two things. and then making up the rest as my now consciously thinking mind sees fit. it's unfair to poor, paralyzed, pure (ish) dreaming me.
thought about posting a wish/thought, but then remembered the old adage: you can wish in one hand, and [defecate] into the other, see which one fills up first. it never did hurt to dream, did it?
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