All of me is beautiful and valuable, even the ugly, stupid, and disgusting parts. I am at one with my duality. Blessed are the flexible, for they can tie themselves into knots. I will strive to live each day as if it were my 50th birthday. Only a lack of imagination saves me from immobilizing myself with imaginary fears.
False hope is nicer than no hope at all.
A good scapegoat is nearly as welcome as a solution to the problem. Instead I will move my TV into the bedroom. I'll find someone. The complete lack of evidence is the surest sign that the conspiracy is working. I am learning that criticism is not nearly as effective as sabotage.