Jeff's Thoughts and Writing

It should have been Black and White

This has been stuck in my head for the last 24 hours and it’s haunting me. Mat Kearney’s City Of Black And White:

‘Cause I don’t want to wait until tomorrow
To tell you how I feel the rest of my life
You don’t want a waste another minute when you realize
Walking on the dark side of the evening
Maybe it was you who opened my eyes
Burning like a fire on the water
The city of black and white
Won’t you just stay
Won’t you just stay

Sometimes I can’t get my head around why I felt the way I did for so long. I’m sure my best realizations are possibly just excuses. Something clicked for me a few months back and it was my moment of brief yet perfect clarity. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt that before in my life.

My past goals enslaved me yet I did not understand how to function without them. Reality was harsher the longer that I tried to push them away to focus. I lost a lot of good years of my life when I should have just stopped sooner knowing that everything would have still worked out for the better. I still feel hurt and resentment at times but I should not have tried to take it all on my shoulders. I could have walked away from the stress points but I didn’t realize that was an option. I was too afraid to fail. I failed regardless.

Father’s Day

Calling my father was harder than it should have been today.

If you’re not making mistakes, then you’re not doing anything. I’m positive that a doer makes mistakes.

— John Wooden

Happiness flowchart.

A woman who cuts her hair is about to change her life.

— 

Coco Before Chanel (2009).

(via anatomyofasoul)

(via quote-book)

Life’s meaning revealed on Twitter unnoticed.

— Matt Black

For sale: Guitar. No strings attached.

— Matthijs Hoitsma

She loved again. I never did.

— Nikolaj

Dart Gun Warfare →

sense and sensibility: with developers

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Stress and Stressability

Work, stress, and outside factors have gotten in the way of the life that I thought I wanted. I’ve tried to use my blog / brain dump here for the good but perhaps it’s just been a way of getting stuff off of my chest. Which can be good for me but not so much for the thousands of you that read this. I mean hundreds. I’m not sure why I can’t get in the habit of writing when I’m extremely happy or maybe that says something too that I tend to be complacent more then I’m happy. OK, maybe dozens of people. For the records stressability is my word and I just made it up.

Late

This Ben Folds song has been getting stuck in my head a lot lately.

Under some dirty words on a dirty wall
Eating takeout by myself
I played the shows
Got back in the van and put the Walkman on
And you were playing

In some other dive a thousand miles away
I played a thousand times before
And like pathetic stars, the truck stops and the rock club walls
I always knew
You saw them too
But you never will again

It's too late
Don't you know
It's been too late
For a long time

Elliott, man, you played a fine guitar
And some dirty basketball
The songs you wrote
Got me through a lot
Just wanna tell you that

But it's too late
It's too late
No, don't you know
it's been too late
for a long time

Oh no
Things were looking up
Least that's what I heard
Oh no
Someone came and washed away your hard-earned
Peace of mind

When desperate static beats the silence up
A quiet truth to calm you down
The songs you wrote
Got me through a lot
Just wanna tell you that

But it's too late
It's too late
No, don't you know
It's been too late
For a long time
It's too late
It's too late
No, don't you know
It's been too late
For a long time

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