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living-still (profile) wrote,
on 4-23-2005 at 10:19am
If I could tell myself how to be happy and work my way towards it, I would...
But I don't know how.
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independenttruckergrl

04-23-05 1:12pm

Hmmm.

Do something that makes you happy.
Like a little thing..

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living-still

Re:, 04-23-05 2:04pm

I can't. I don't have time.
I have work to do.

And either way, I don't know what that would be.... besides dancing in the rain or making out with Ryan. Neither of which are possible at the moment.

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independenttruckergrl

Re: Re:, 04-23-05 3:58pm

Listening to certain types of music.. does that make you happy?

Or just talking with a friend...

Or reading..

Or writing..

or.. taking a walk..

Maybe you're miserable because you don't make time for yourself..

<3

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rorin

Re: Re: Re:, 04-23-05 4:03pm

It's too bad I can't take time for myself. Mom is making me finish homework assignments that I'm missing in APUSH. They are really difficult... that's why I didn't do them in the first place.

Writing about what? The only thing I know how to write about is my feelings. And I don't think that would be wise since, at the moment, I am feeling like a pile of shit.

I can't take a walk for fear of pollen and work.

I hate reading (unless it's Harry Potter).

And there aren't any friends to talk to.

The music I love=bad for studying.

And all this is a mute point because I have work I'm doing...
So I'll just have to feel like shit...

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independenttruckergrl

Re: Re: Re: Re:, 04-23-05 4:45pm

You could talk to me if you wanted.

Writing about.. things.. like what you see outside.. or what you hear.. or what you feel.
or lost shoes.. hehe.

i found something you might like to read.. i dunno. but here it is..

A great note for all to read it will take just 37 seconds to read this and change your thinking

Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation.

Every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.

The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside.

The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance.

As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.

One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by.

Although the other man couldn't hear the band - he could see it. In his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.

Days and weeks passed.

One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.

As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.

Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside.

He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed.

It faced a blank wall. The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window.

The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall.

She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you."

Epilogue:

There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations.

Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared, is doubled.

If you want to feel rich, just count all the things you have that money can't buy.

"Today is a gift, that's why it is called the present."

The origin of this letter is unknown, but it brings good luck to everyone who passes it on



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living-still

Re: Re: Re: Re: Re:, 04-24-05 6:58pm

thank you. it was wonderful.

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