An Obituary for All the Fucks I Had to Give
All My Fucks graduated from Shame University in 1998 with high honors.
All My Fucks graduated from Shame University in 1998 with high honors.
The cool thing about being grateful is that any time you sense a challenge, you can thank it, and then you win.
Some of you seem to be using this platform for what my psychologist, Dr. Winter, has identified as attention-seeking behavior.
You realize you are alone and so is your spirit, crushing you with the existential terror that you are irreparably flawed at the cellular level.
You approach a crying person and ask what’s the matter. They say, “Nothing.” Seconds later that person is interacting jovially with a colleague.
Take a moment to become aware of the sounds around you. Tune out your next-door neighbors who won’t stop having elaborate sex.
30 minutes in, dad dug his guitar out of the closet and then openly wept when he realized he had forgotten the chords to even the simplest song.
Think something along the lines of “My oven is on!” or “I have a deadline to meet!” hold up your index finger in the air, and abruptly turn around.
10:00 AM Icebreaker: Hot Potato – Toss the Responsibility of a Stimulus Package Back and Forth Without Letting It Touch the Ground or Help Anyone
The drawer that still sticks, the third night of leftovers, the same old view out the window: just a few reasons travelers find us so unforgettable.
Nietzsche: The dishes cannot be done because they are no longer dishes; they are merely objects awaiting their next social construction by humans.
Journal entries dissecting a previous relationship / Bad poetry / Concerns to share with doctor / Reminder to self to be more crafty