Little Tid-Bits
*These are random pieces of things I've been writing. I can't for the life of me put one cohesive thought together.*
-The problem with writing, is that an idea is never enough. That's the same problem with life. You can set endless amounts of goals, but if you do nothing to attain them, you are nothing. Lately I have found myself in this position of life where I am so wound up about who I want to be that I've forgotten who I am.
-As I was walking into work today I thought to myself, self, you are spending too much time on you and not enough time on life. You're trying to figure out what you like, what you don't, and where you should be, when you already are where you are.
-What is it with humans that makes them feel they deserve to know the end from the beginning?
-Sometimes the greatest gifts people can give us are the memories of the mistakes they've helped us make.
-The way you feel in the temple is the way you should feel in your life.
-The problem with writing, is that an idea is never enough. That's the same problem with life. You can set endless amounts of goals, but if you do nothing to attain them, you are nothing. Lately I have found myself in this position of life where I am so wound up about who I want to be that I've forgotten who I am.
-As I was walking into work today I thought to myself, self, you are spending too much time on you and not enough time on life. You're trying to figure out what you like, what you don't, and where you should be, when you already are where you are.
-What is it with humans that makes them feel they deserve to know the end from the beginning?
-Sometimes the greatest gifts people can give us are the memories of the mistakes they've helped us make.
-The way you feel in the temple is the way you should feel in your life.
-As she sat up on her knees letting her weight sink her legs further into the gravel, punishing them for failing her, she saw the yellows and greens of the desert bushes blowing in the breeze. Their long branches were turning in semi-circles and changing direction with every few seconds that passed. The cactus sat in a steady position not minding the breeze, resilient to change, withstanding the push and pull of the wind, deep green with sharp pink tips. Her eyes rose to the horizon, rocks and ridges, an endless sea of dirt and stone growing out of earth. It seemed consistent, never-ending.
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