Today was the day I breathed itches away and those bitches be back so my lungs I’ll repack.

Mindfulness is recognizing and acknowledging instead of scratching an itch.

If anyone saw the My Crazy Ex-Girlfriend reference and felt it random, know that this song whispers to me (by comparison, Blue Period shouts).

Where among your children are those can compose like Jerry and Layne. I see their addictions live.

Entry number two in the suddenly sang from memory collection:

Black is all I feel
So this is how it feels to be free

Surrounded by empty souls
Artificial courage used
And because so, once was mine
I walk this maze alone

Black is all I feel
So this is how it feels to be free

The man's beside himself
Man's below himself
Man's behind himself
Am I inside myself

If you got that last one… who am I kidding… if you’re a parent who didn’t get that last one, you may have a kid willing and able to help you crack the back half.

I suspect cross-sensory frequency relationships get worked by a quality composer scoring emotional content like he was he was the most notorious talker masquerading as mere party buff support.

When you’ve left the TV on to babysit your child.

A good example of how I say everything weird the first time and the recipient requesting the instruction manual version. When the topic is liberal, it helps me run everything through, making sure it connects the way I think it does.

Oh, little doggie,
Is it that you nap for me?
Do I nap for thee?

If it feels robotic, try slowing the tempo. It’s easier to fit in the fills. The old tempo gets you there faster. This new tempo has all the frills.

When the triplets are troubling have a quack with quadruplets.

When you realize that the you today could jump in (and keep up with) your buddy and his friends when they went all 8-Mile on each other like somebody at their plant had happened across some hassling huckery f$&k in is fuckity boots been there so lickity long that he’s starting to grow roots.

Perceiving a perspective without direct line of sight is less valuable than getting a good look at the photocopy of a photocopy of a negative of an idea the next door neighbor once had: a kindergarten game of telephone without the benefit of capturing that pre-teen frequency range.

When you are a story bitten off and consumed by excerpt

Whenever getting something off your chest, check you are working towards resolving the source of discomfort. I suspect so much of the time we spend getting things off of our chests we are also spending pushing things onto the chests of others.

I suppose I don’t know whether my reconnected psychiatrist jumped in; but, he certainly did more than offer to toss a life preserver. Must be a mindf$&k, hitting the water and finding breathable air beneath the surface. Like Atlantis was always real but nobody nearby’d looked for the bubble.

One for which I don’t feel like Bene Gesseritaring a generic form: when your ereader tone is too warm, but everything left is too cold, so you try auto (always a mistake as it iteratively takes it as far left as it can), after which settling, finally, manually near the middle… which feels perfect.

When your brain’s all throw error(prdx) every time you consider the magnitude of all that you might have createded in what you’ll conservatively call two decades followed by the question of would you even be where you believe yourself to be had you successfully created anything at all up until now.

Perhaps three weeks is the touch down time for the passing brain storm.

If I ever get my feelings sorted regarding social media, @manton will be getting a soft shoutout for being the kind of thoughtful and responsive developer I want building my platform.

Side note: I probably sorted my feelings and this is probably the soft shoutout.

You don’t have to dig very deep to find out why social media models are not community models. Two people following each other haven’t a clue where they’re actually headed.

In 2021 I spent a few thousand dollars trying to have a conversation. I wonder if anyone else is like this. I’d love to hear what they have to say.

If the commercial world were real, how awesome we’d all feel.

The ride is over. We’ll see where we land.

We borrow our moods from those around us in the room, actual people, as well as perceived.