“Few Things Are Impossible To Diligence And Skill.” –SAMUEL JOHNSON

Samuel_Johnson_by_Joshua_Reynolds (via Wikipedia)









Can My Life Be Summed Up By A Quotation From THOMAS EDISON?!


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I Have NOT Failed

I’ve Just Found 10,000 Ways That Won’t Work.”

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…He Was (likely) Talking About Light-Bulbs…

…But It FEELS Rather Fitting, Doesn’t It?!

How’z’bout You, My Peeps?!

Does That Quote Just Totally Sum Things Up?!

It Sure As Hell Does For Me…

…And I’m Pretty Sure A LOT Of Y’all Would (likely) Agree With Me.

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I Continue Struggling With This Whole “Positive Outlook” Thing.

In Fact, I Think It’s Hurting Me.

I’m Honestly Not Wired For Positive Feelings.

I Try To Let Them Come Out When I Write, And I Think I Do A Good Job At That.


…The World Does Not Totally Exist In Print.

This Is Simply My Sanctuary.

It’s The Place I Go When Something Needs To Be Expressed.


Because Doing So In The Physical World Simply Doesn’t Work-Out.

I’m Trying, Kids.

I’m Really Trying.

I’m Really REEEEALLY Trying.

But It’s A Rough Slog, And I’m Unsure If I Can Keep-It-Up.

My Sleepless Nights Are Seriously Catching-Up With Me.

I’m Slipping Back Into Being My Normal Self.

My Normal Self That FEELS Like ME.

It’s Everyone Else That’s A Bit Dodgy Of It.

I Can’t Help That I’m Rather Cold…

…Rather Cerebral…

…Rather Blank-Slated.

Emotion Isn’t Something I’m Good At.

It’s Hard To Express Feelings In Person When They’re Feelings I’ve Rarely Experienced.

Over The Phone, It’s Easy To Fake A Positive Feeling.

The Other Person Can’t See That My Expression Hasn’t Changed.

They Just Hear What I Want Them To Hear, And That’s That.

I’m Just Not Sure What To Think.

I Need A Night Where I Actually Get Like 6+Hours Of Really Really REAL Sleep.

I’d Do Almost Anything If I Knew How To Make That Happen.

At Times Like This, I Used To Drink Myself To Sleep.

It Was A Bad Way To Get Much Needed Rest…

…But It DID Work…


I Simply Can’t Justify The Drinking These Days.

I’ve Gone Long Enough Without Re-Opening That Festering Wound…

…So I Think I’ll Let That Sleeping Dog Lie.

I’ve Had A Couple Beverages While Out-&-About With Company…

…But Won’t Be Doing So Again.

Two (2) Drinks…

…That’s It…

…Just Two…

…And I Had A Screaming Headache Straight From Hell’s Half-Acre.

It Was Awful.

What’s The Old Saying…

"Every Ounce Of Pleasure Must Be Purchased With An Equal Amount Of Pain"

…Or Something To That Effect?!




…HIGHLY APPLICABLE To What I’m Talking About.

So What Am I Left To Do?!

I’m Just Not Sure.

I Feel Muddled.

My Mind Is Fried.

My Body Is Exhausted.

My “Positive Outlook” Is Fading.

Like That Wasn’t Expected?!

You Know It Was.

I Knew It Wasn’t Something I Could Make Last.

I Suppose I’ll Have To Settle For The Positive Moments.

I’ll Let You Know When I Find One.

It’s Most Likely Living In The Freezer…

…And Is Called “Mr. Ice-Cream Sammich, Esq.”!!!


…Got My Moment Right There!!

I Wonder What Painful Experience I’ll Have To Weather Because Of It?!

Other Than The 9-Grams Of Fat Per-Serving, Of Course.