Out of damp and gloomy days, out of solitude, out of loveless words directed at us, conclusions grow up in us like fungus: one morning they are there, we know not how, and they gaze upon us morose and gray. Woe to the thinker who is not the gardener but only the soil of the plants that grow in him.
~ Friedrich Nietsche
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I had a conversation with my friend Kurt one time. We decided that we agreed that it is much harder work to be happy than to be unhappy. It takes effort - it doesn't just happen.
If we spend our lives letting things "just happen" to us without taking any small measure of control that we might be able to claim, we lose.
Not that Life is a game.
Well, technically it is a game. A board game where you are forced to get married.
Like a cult.
Not sure where this was actually headed.
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