A while ago I had a friend who was the most far-out dude you could ever hope to know, and not expect an axe to the head while you were resting on the couch. A year or so later, he ended up becoming friends with my first collage roommate, who was the most straight-laced dude you ever met. (A friend of mine at the time remarked, "Man, he even hangs up his T-shirts!")
So I asked my friend one day, "Why do you like Steve?" (names have been changed to protect the innocent)
And he said, "Because he's the only truly normal person I know. I have to have some sort of baseline."
Earlier today, I had a conversation which brought up the concept of living a normal life, and on both sides there were some statements about how we had failed to transcend (at the moment) such a fate. But, I do feel (after a certain amount of wondering, and pondering, which brought up my previous remembrance) there is a baseline that is normal, and if you're reading this, you're nowhere near that baseline. If things in your world appear to have reached a plateau where you're tired of your life being normal, please remember, you're normal life would blow the fuck out of some "normal humanid's" perception of normal so far out of the water, that it would easily be called amazing.
Don't kid yerself. It would.
Now: some photos of a nice lookin' woman.
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1 comment:
As one that has a small part in this story, thanks for the insight. As much as my life isn't all that I want it to be, most if not all of my coworkers would kill for my life. An now Zorro has to go forth and do some Halloween killing. On the side of good of course.
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