I would like to begin with a topic with which men are familiar.
But it is more like a journey, better yet, a prison sentence.
It begins when you are sentenced by the PARENT POLICE (who are totally lame btw),
accused and found guilty of puberty!!!1
and in the cell that is your room, you come across a very nice friend. A
(parents may look like a crackhead Matthwe Perry posing with an android)
I'm talking about porn. All men know what it's like to discover porn, and then to dream of the day they become old enough to watch porn. Every time our mom walks in with laundry as we shoot loads past her like bullets in the matrix., we dream about this day, when we can gamble, and skip school, and live on our own, and stay up all night. These are our dreams when we are children.
Maybe you are a nun, or an amish (you have sinned by reading this, haha!) and have never though about sex, but we have all had silly dreams before we became adults, but we remember those dreams because they are memories of a simpler and more innocent time, matter not how perverted our dreams may have then been.
We now understand that our dreams may not always lead to happier lives. But we must also avoid getting lost in our past, because we look at our past for certainty and comfort, so there is an overly positive bias on our memories. The only time we can be absolutely sure about is the present moment. This is the only time when we are experiencing our lives most clearly.
If we simply focus on our lives now, we will eliminate the woes of nostalgia felt by our future selves out of regret of wasted youth.
Either way, my room mate over watered my house plant, and it got moldy and essentially ended up becoming a green leafy sponge. I didn't help it though, when I left it outside, so that there wouldn't be mold spores spreading on the fruit (it was in the kitchen). Of course it was frozen the next day, when I went to change it's soil. Well, now it doesn't look like it's in the best condition (i think it's dead, but I don't want to admit it to my other plants).
( my money tree)
This is what it's supposed to look like



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