Recently I heard the wise words, "Life is like a bag of tacos, You reach in looking for a supreme and get a regular." Now this statement is just absurd enough to be true, and just true enough to be funny. Aside from its "Forest Gump" ripoff and its odd selection of the food tacos and container of a bag, I found it fresh enough to write about. It seems to me that it fits in quite well with the dramedy (word used with limited permission from JWR) that is life. And I must admit that somewhere between the absurdly ironically hilarious, and the sickeningly sweet sadness hover the songs that are our lives, and like all songs beautiful and exciting, when studied in the realm of the physical are little more than breaths of air, waves, and ripples.
Every situation in life is new and different. Never believe that you can get used to circumstances, routines or ways of handling life, for that in itself is a contradiction in terms. Life is not to be handled, it is to be lived and it will never fail to impress by how it finds new and interesting ways to mix things up and throw hurdles and curve balls your way, and the worst part is it won't give you running shoes or a bat before it does you just have to learn as you go.
Now for a time of narcissistic reflection. I have been in the process of discovering my own writing habits over the past few years and am coming to the conclusion that I am a "close writer." That is to say, just as a close talker invades personal space and makes the other participating conversationalists uneasy, as much I do in writing. Often picking topics that are awkward or uneasy subject wise or saying things in a questionable way I cross the lines. These crossed personal boundaries often include but are not limited to telling people that I have romantic feelings for them, or voicing what could be improved in a person's personality (the latter only occurs when asked first but still produces a similar result, but then again I do not need to justify myself to you). C'est la vie...
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