What are you doing this evening?
Who can know such things? I’m not a fortuneteller. But as I just came off a travel cycle, a betting person would put his money on something sleep related.
What are you doing this evening?
Who can know such things? I’m not a fortuneteller. But as I just came off a travel cycle, a betting person would put his money on something sleep related.
“Facetious.” But I only use it so much because I am it so much.
Big enough to live in it; small enough not to live for it.
Preferably, it teleports on a regular basis, so I don’t have to — you know— live in one place for the rest of my life.
What brings a tear of joy to your eye?
Feigning melodrama.
Post-breakfast satiety with a side of caffeine rush.
I poop. Surely, I would have exploded in my youth if I hadn’t developed the habit. I feel my quality of life as a human must be better than the quality of life of gut bacteria in wall-spattered fecal matter. At least I have the leisure and capacity to contemplate such things.
Long For This World: The Strange Science of Immortality by Jonathan WeinerWhen all is quiet and harmonious, and one anticipates good things are to come.
From the outskirts of the town
Where of old the mile-stone stood,
Now a stranger, looking down
I behold the shadowy crown
Of the dark and haunted wood.
Is it changed, or am I changed?
Ah! the oaks are fresh and green,
But the friends with whom I ranged
Through their thickets are estranged
By the years that intervene.
Bright as ever flows the sea,
Bright as ever shines the sun,
But alas! they seem to me
Not the sun that used to be,
Not the tides that used to run.
It continues to offer daily learning opportunities. Plus, the people are friendly and the climate is quite good.