My goods, my bads
Why is it so hard to accept my "bads," especially when I have so many "goods"? I think I can usually find ways to compensate my bads with my goods. But my ... guilt. Oof! I'm hard on myself.
Isn't that life? To a degree?
I what I mean is ... One side versus another XXXmultiplied byXXX intricate complexities we can't ever fully understand without being able to read people's minds, so we wrack our brains with ways to compensate for the "other" in ways that make sense to us at the time = Life.
Us versus them ... Good versus bad... etc, etc.
Now here's something good: "Lady Dynamite" on Netflix. Thanks Bamf, for helping me feel better.
Now here's something bad: My farts. Stank. Pass out. Stank. Repeat. Stank. (One consequence of anxiety. Another consequence of having the song "Swimming Pools" in my head.)
Here's something in between: This photo. This dog's name is Barf. The time of day is morning.
Today I will be at Junkyard. Come visit.
Tomorrow I will be working on some music. Come visit my music page later. I'll post.
Next month I perform my very first rap show in Sioux Falls, SD. I'm so jazzed.
Hold up a moment... why I am blogging about all this? I don't know for sure yet, but I do know it feels damn good.