Stories and Walls

This morning I managed to grab some time with le petit ami's aunt, who is a journalist, and very graciously allowed me to join her and her friends for lunch. Such a kind, wonderful lady! Now I feel incredibly inefficient since everything was planned last minute as she had to leave in the afternoon. :\

There is nothing more interesting than hearing stories of other people, especially people with a deep pool of experiences. Stories that lead to stories that lead to more stories. Life is just stories that overlap to create a multi-dimensional experience and then history comes in and makes it one-dimensional again. Sort of like how people tend to undervalue the beauty of simplicity and add more colors and glitters and sparkly things to things that don't need them, like vampires. That was such a bad comparison. I don't know what my mind is doing right now.

One day I will be that. To have a whole deposit of grand adventures and great stories to tell, to live my life the way I want to live it.

Here, have a silly picture of me telling myself that 

I dare to live my life the way I want to. 

Original picture at Roxy's gallery, please like and share if 

you think my vague attempt at being witty did not end up generic.

As it is, I can only dream of living the good life right now, and continue to struggle with the baggage I have on my end. I need to find a metaphorical sea to dump my metaphorical baggage into, and wish it away to the end of cyberspace as metaphorical bits and bytes.

It is funny though, how when people ask for opinions of decisions we are quick to give solutions, in which everything can be done ideally. Yet when we face our own walls we think it unclimbable, we think it impossible, we sit against it in our minds and cry because of the utter weakness we can only see.

I either need a good large dose of Calvin and Hobbes right now, or some ninja skills. Perhaps I need a bit of both.