come down off the cross, we can use the wood

For a thing to be special, it needs to be rare. Special things are uncommon, a field of grass in the middle of the prairie is just scenery. A drop in the ocean, as they say.

The reason they make so many movies about "true love" and "soul mates" is because it isn't something that happens everyday; it is a fantasy movie about some fantasy shit, so to speak.

The measure we use to determine happiness is based on experience. If you've never been happy, a small kindness can mean the world. If all you've ever known is blissful ignorance then a minor inconvenience is a gross misfortune. This is why children over-react to everything, they simply don't know any better.

Likewise, if you've never known security then you have no idea of what safety means. If you've always been beset upon by those mean you harm, you wouldn't know a good thing if it hit you in the face (because that's normally what the bad things do).

And if you're always angry, you'll know no peace.

Experience is such a trivial thing and yet it is the lens through which we see the world.

better out than in

Life is like shit.

I didn't say life is shit, that's defeatist and no one likes a loser.

It's like shit. Sometimes it is smooth and easy and other times it rushes like the mighty Mississippi overflowing its banks.

Thinking "No, that's far too much", but when you look back on it, they're remarkably similar.

I don't know anyone that's had the life they thought they should, that's just not how those things work out. Fortunately, for the most part, shits are at least somewhat predictable. If you go out and drink a dozen high gravity lagers, you probably just signed up for a bad time. Likewise if you decide to eat a pound of cheese in one sitting. If you watch what you eat and keep that fiber up, you're gonna brag about your shits. That's just how those things work out.

But, regardless of how, what goes in must come out. Which is another similarity with this grand topic of "life", generally you get out of it what you put in to it, it's just that everything gets all mangled in the process and doesn't always resemble what you thought it would. It's the act of living that cobbles us together. Pain, illness, heartbreak, and all those other things that most folks want to avoid are actually what makes most folks who they are. The old adage of "forged in the fire" or some similar colloquialism would be apt here, though when you're in the midst of being forged none of that matters.

We must accept the shit life gives us, but only a real sick fucker would embrace it.