Fanciable
When I think about my younger days I cannot say I did anything particularly thoroughly. I can say for sure, yes, at some points I threw myself into the activity and sodnthe consequences but the thing I remember most from my younger days was the rest of the time when I was dithering, dithering and pretending I was cool, dithering, pretending I was cool and dreaming of being fanciable.
It feels like I am waiting for a change, waiting for a miracle. There are too many of these little notes that will be filled with self pity should I just let them be what they want to be. And not enough of these notes that would stoically keep carrying on. I guess what I have to do is think of ways to maximise the time that these inconveniences give me and I will start to think of them as opportunities. That can be my miracle.
Less
Perhaps as I got older I began to expect less, less on all levels. Less fun, less...
