Recycled

Day One Hundred and Ten.

I wish I had something exceptionally valuable to say tonight! Or even something remotely valuable would do. Alas, I don’t have timing perfection when it comes to feeling compelled to write. I feel pretty okay about my weekly ratio of valuable to pointless posts lately. So, to meet me quota, I’d like to revisit a post from the past that feels extremely relavent right now.

I have an innate fear of falling, as do most people probably. Some people have an easier time ignoring that feeling than I do. They’re able to recognize that some things are just worth risking failure for and choose to jump while I choose what is safe and easy and tend to live with many regrets. I’m not one of those people who claim to not live with regrets because “every mistake, every missed opportunity just makes you stronger and builds you into the person you are, blah, blah, blah…” bullshit. I do regret things sometimes and I don’t feel like I’m somehow prohibiting myself from moving on with my life or growing or whatever. I don’t know where I’m going with this. I guess my point is that I’m bored. I never get bored. It’s not me. And it’s not a I-have-nothing-to-do-but-sit-on-my-butt kind of bored, but a bored with who I am. So yes, I want to do something crazy. That doesn’t mean I want to smoke or get a tattoo. It doesn’t mean I want to go away and get lost along the way. It doesn’t mean I want to vandalize someone’s property or run through sprinklers. To be completely honest, I don’t know what it means. But, I’ll let you know when I figure it out and invite you to join me. Jump with me.


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