Here I will post some nonsense which spouts from my brain magically onto the interwebs. Obviously you will have to read this blog-thing, not only due to its addictive nature and high level of intellect, but also because if you don't Jesus will kill a kitten.

8,099

Today I am 8,099, which is pretty old by any stretch of the imagination.

In my 8,099 equally spaced increments of time I have managed to travel out of my native land only a handful of times, gained excess weight and managed to get myself in to a state where I need pills to keep me sane. Quite a feat for 8,099, eh?

Its time for a bit of a change. A new lick of paint, if you will.

However..

The only thing that changes effortlessly is time. Thats it. Change does not come quickly. Slow and steady is the key.

Slow and steady.

Love..x

ZzZzZzZz

Apparently I no longer sleep, which is not fun at all I may add.

I hope I am in your nightmares.

A life or death decision.
Hope.

Hope.




Today.

Everyday is a precious gift.

Everyday we have the opportunity to do something worthwhile, or choose to squander it. Everyday we have the chance to broaden our horizon, to stretch our minds and test our limits. We have the ability to make a lasting impression in a world which may have no tomorrow.

This day, today, brings the opportunity to fulfil that goal, to achieve that dream. Today is the day you could start it, end it or bring it back to life.

Tomorrow may never come. For some, today could be that day.

Today is your day.

How will you spend it?

Evo Morales

Truth.

“… And because in all other monasteries and nunneries all is composed, limited, and regulated by hours, it was decreed that in this new structure there should be neither clock nor dial, but that according to the opportunities and incident occasions, all their hours should be disposed of; for, said Gargantua, the greatest loss of time that I know, is to count the hours. What good comes of it? Nor can there be any greater dotage in the world than for one to guide and direct his courses by the sound of a bell, and not by his own judgment and discretion.”
— François Rabelais