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Everyday is a winding road
In the words of Sheryl Crow, everyday is a winding road indeed! In that song she proposes that life is a winding road and that she's getting closer to feeling fine all the time. That song left me thinking that we all have to travel down this road of life, but so many of us tend to be asleep at the wheel! Life is a funny teacher, we all rush around to do our tasks to get to the end of whatever we are doing! The end of this winding road of life is the dirt nap! That's why the saying, "its the journey, not the destination that matters" is so profound and wise!
Why are we not enjoying the journey instead of waiting to get to the end of it? I don't want to get to the end! So when you hit the road this morning, on your normal commute of life, take pleasure in the moment of the journey. See, hear, smell all that's around you (safely if you are driving), and enjoy the sensations that you drink in. Be present in life now because its fleeting and we don't know how much time each of us has been alloted on this earth. Don't be afraid of what's around that bend up ahead, relish the excitement of not knowing, be prepared for new challenges, and practice love!
Waterstones King's Road, London #photo #iphoneograpgy
Sometime over the Summer 2009, while my wife was looking through design books in Waterstones, I took this photograph on my iPhone using Widescreen (or it could have been Pano - I can't remember exactly ... they both work well enough).
# ten
I got into a military vehicle. More specifically, I got into the Singapore Armed Forces Trailblazer, at the Combat Engineers' base.
What it does is to neautralize any live landmines by thwacking the ground and detonating the mines as it rumbles past. it also has these super sharp vampire-worthy sticks made of gold-plated bits to shoot to the ground to let the other soldiers know that this area has been neutralised. kaboom!
I hate to sound like General Cock-up-Ass but isn't it awesome?! I climbed up in my sandals and jeans, praying not to flash any of my FLESH to those 18-year-old boys in uniform. And there it was, the largest steering wheel I have ever seen, with the Mercedes logo smack in the middle of it. Sweeeet.I felt my imaginary balls shiver with excitement.
Too bad they are all manual cars. I only drive auto. :P
# eight
I'm not sure if this is cheating. Let's pretend it isn't.
# eight: get on a tuk tuk.|
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| From Bangkok Day Two |
Being guests at a sizzling-hot hotel meant that our tuk-tuk was sizzling hot too. I loved precariously dangling inches away from certain Thai death whenever the tuk-tuk went round a corner or made a sharp turn. Woohoo!!!
Off to @MuchAdoCafe
Last week I met with @JoBucks at what we called the world's smallest twitter meet. The two of us met, ate and surfed the web at MuchAdo in Olney.
Here is a video of my journey there..
Need for speed, don't try this at home.
Holy Shit. This is a year old, but I had never seen it before. Crazy long-board ride. I found myself watching this with a wince most of the time. The first two minutes are setup so just cut to the action and skip forward to 2:15 or so.
Adam Kimmel presents: Claremont HD from adam kimmel on Vimeo.
The Partial Road. Chapter Three
"The Partial Road" is produced http://jbni.us -- The maker of 33+ extraordinarily potent naturaceuticals for you and your life ... like "Serenadin".
Continued from Chapter Two... By the time we got to Mrs. Griffin's house, my sheets of numbness had slid off leaving me with the feeling of anger. It was cold naked anger. I had never felt so much hatred for Dad or anyone for that matter. The way my objectivity had left me in sheets, I wanted to tear at the layers of my father's face. I'd leave his eyes for last then work from the whites to the center, the ignorant, insensitive center.
The sound of a wine glass shattering brought me back to earth. I looked around. Most of the same people who were at the funeral made it to Mrs. Griffin's house. Actually, there were more people at the house than were at the funeral. Three of them came in tattered jeans. Five were in t-shirts. Fourteen were in sneakers -- that made 28 squeaking sneakers on Mrs. Griffin's marble floor tiles.
I noticed that my anger was still there. In fact, it was more there. I looked around at the laughing faces. Most of them were laughing. Most of them were stuffing their pig faces with the food Mrs. Griffin had catered.
Mom had just brought them cold beer
Mr. Gregory and Mr. Nigel were talking about their upcoming golf game. Mr. Leinhardt and Mr. Cole were talking about the new boat Mr. Robbins just bought. Mrs. Kenner and Mrs. Cole were debating about whether Gary or Steven (their respective kids) would be the Walton Place Jr. High's soccer team captain. Mrs. Grossberg was telling Mrs. Balton that Mom should have left Dad after the first time. All of them were drinking red wine.
Mr. Nigel and Mr. Leinhardt were over for a football game a while back. Dad was out back bringing in more hot dogs -- the spicy kind with cheese in the center. Mom had just brought them cold beer. As she walked away, Mr. Leinhardt said to Mr. Nigel, "I'd tap that so hard she'd be cured."
In my mind, I ran through Mrs. Griffin's vaulted living room. I threw the full plates of food from each hand to each face. I grabbed wine glasses and smashed them over the ears of each pig standing there acting like they actually cared about Mom.
I didn't.
I heard that Chad Fogerty did something like this last year at his Dad's wake. I couldn't stand the thought of all the kids at school calling me a copy-cat. I could see their faces. I could hear them whispering. I could feel the notes and texts and messages flying around school about how I was a copy-cat. I couldn't.
I couldn't.
"You stupid puny-looser-idiot!" I screamed at myself.
I didn't want to make any noise. I couldn't.
I ran up the long winding flight of stairs behind me into the upstairs bathroom. Softly, I leaned against the inside of the bathroom door closing it. I didn't want to make any noise. I couldn't.
Collapsing on the cold marble floor hard enough to make my knees bleed, I draped myself over the side of the coldest porcelain tub you can imagine.
I couldn't even stand up for Mom after her death. I was afraid of what the other kids would say about me.
I wept. I turned on the bath water. It was cold. But it covered my whimpering.
"If I stood up for Mom, my beautiful glowie Mom, while she was alive, she might not have died at all."
continued: Chapter Four
off to work!
Great road but not when there's traffic infront =| This is about the slowest I've ever gone, enjoy·**•.♥
Great #road but not when there's traffic infront =| This is about the #slowest I've ever gone, enjoy·**•.♥
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