Success - Whatever That Is..

 

"Small Pinch"

Nikon D800

Lensbaby Double Glass Optic

Lightroom

Silver Efex

I was gifted MemoryGram for Christmas. It's a online thingy where you write down memories of your life for your survivors to savor after you're been reduced to ash. The MemoryGram people start you out with a helpful starter question, in my case the ironic "What makes for a successful life?" The irony comes from the fact that I've been thinking back on my life and have been feeling so much regret for how I spent my time.  First - my choice of employment - Hi-Tech - a joint I was completely unsuited to.. AND Tech has turned out to be an existential threat to the species, both in terms of dangerous unregulated software and the spreading surveillance / subjugation of the Empire's citizenry.  I used to be so critical of people who worked for Big Tobacco.  Big Tobacco has nothing on Big Tech.. Nothing..  And then there is the complete waste of time pursuing a Christian path, spending hours and hours making thousands of rosaries, going to church, reading Christian books.  This is as bad as working in Tech. Christianity is the source of so much ignorance and cruelty. They've essentially taken over the Empire now and are doing what they have done throughout the ages - block progress - step on women - step on gay people - undermine democratic principles and strive to make everyone just like them. What a horrifying mistake I made. I aided and abetted the cruelty that has now blossomed in the country.  Deep regrets like these are not for MemoryGram books though. I'm pretty sure what is wanted is some sunnier version of events. Good Bones Life is short, though I keep this from my children. Life is short, and I've shortened mine in a thousand delicious, ill-advised ways, a thousand deliciously ill-advised ways I'll keep from my children. The world is at least fifty percent terrible, and that's a conservative estimate, though I keep this from my children. For every bird there is a stone thrown at a bird. For every loved child, a child broken, bagged, sunk in a lake. Life is short and the world is at least half terrible, and for every kind stranger, there is one who would break you, though I keep this from my children. I am trying to sell them the world. Any decent realtor, walking you through a real shithole, chirps on about good bones: This place could be beautiful, right? You could make this place beautiful.   ~ Maggie Smith ~ The other bit of irony is this: I've been writing about my life and what I think about things for twenty years.. Thousands and thousands of posts and had hardly any interest from those who will live long after I'm (finally) gone.  Perhaps they shy away for the unvarnished/raw prose.  Who knows?  Life is funny that way..  ~