Maybe I could just write hymns and odes from now on. Hymns are an "oh, wow' about God or the underlying whatever it is. Odes are an "oh, wow" about some specific wonderfulness that is playing out before my very senses.
Easy ways to generate words are complaining and being cynical.
Complaining makes much material because the world doesn't give me everything I want the millisecond I think of wanting it.
If I get unhappy about each instance of this and document my unhappiness in words, I create a waterfall of whining.
Being cynical is like turning off my mind and my ability to notice. I then turn on a mental machine that assumes the worst about all actions and motives. Cynicism is toxic laziness.
Maybe I could notice one thing a day to write an ode about whether I write the ode or not. For example, curbs and sidewalks exist and also organized police forces and courts. Additionally, most people most of the time are non-violent.
Because of these things I can walk around noticing other things that are good. (Knocking on a forest of wood.) I don't know though if I can write an ode to the space that curbs, sidewalks, cops, courts, and the non-violent majority of people and moments create that is worthy of how very unlikely that space is from the point of view of the cynical machine and how routine
Easy ways to generate words are complaining and being cynical.
Complaining makes much material because the world doesn't give me everything I want the millisecond I think of wanting it.
If I get unhappy about each instance of this and document my unhappiness in words, I create a waterfall of whining.
Being cynical is like turning off my mind and my ability to notice. I then turn on a mental machine that assumes the worst about all actions and motives. Cynicism is toxic laziness.
Maybe I could notice one thing a day to write an ode about whether I write the ode or not. For example, curbs and sidewalks exist and also organized police forces and courts. Additionally, most people most of the time are non-violent.
Because of these things I can walk around noticing other things that are good. (Knocking on a forest of wood.) I don't know though if I can write an ode to the space that curbs, sidewalks, cops, courts, and the non-violent majority of people and moments create that is worthy of how very unlikely that space is from the point of view of the cynical machine and how routine
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