What is bliss?

I don’t ¬†understand a lot of things in life.

And sometimes that’s a good thing. If we were to understand the depth of some matters. It would be depressing, and this is just after finding out that my wife tricked me and got me decaf.

Ignorance isn’t bliss but turning a blind eye is.

The good guy part 1

He sat there across from her.

She went through his resume, taking her time. He looked up and didn’t dare look around. He kept a smirk. It was her to maintain but he wanted her to see a friendly smile when she put down his paper. The smirk was getting harder to maintain.

He was overthinking the smirk now, his jaw muscles were beginning to hurt. His face was vibrating now. He had to put a straight face now. He was now doing a ghost face to stretch out his face and relax the muscles.

She looked straight at that. He went straight back to the smirk. A moment of silence…

” So tell me about yourself ”

He was relieved and finally started talking, and talking and talking. He was desperate and she knew it. She preyed on such targets.  She told him how amazing the job is and how he would be a perfect fit.

She suggested he come and try out the place and see how he felt. He did for a few days and he absolutely loved it.

( To be continued )

What matters

I have 15 minutes to spare. Usually in those those 15 minutes, I spend 16 of them talking non sense mainly, with my colleagues. I want to dedicate 10 minuets to this and 5 to my lovely colleagues.

I’m not exhausted at the moment, I feel good and feel that I’m writing this.

If there’s anything I’d like to give away to myself is this: ” It doesn’t matter how many hours I’m up during the day, but what I do with the hours is what matters”

I don’t have much to contribute in today’s post but that in itself is a huge contribution I think

In exactly 2 mins I will have another post under my blog and for that I’m a better person to myself.


I’m writing for me as well

As I write this, I have 181 official blog posts that are online.

Today is a Friday. It’s August the 25th. It’s 11:04 pm. It’s dark. It’s quiet. It’s nice. Just me, my time, my thoughts and myself. This is the time I have to recharge , the time I have to work hobbies, my films, my writing and my time to put my little baby Sam back to sleep 4-7 times in the span on 6 hours ( 11 pm – 6 am ).

It’s also the time that I stay up, lose brain cells, prolong recovery, stare at emptiness ( most of the time that emptiness is a screen with a lot on it ) and the time I know I’ll wake up feeling sorry I didn’t shut the laptop gently, and crept into my sofa bed to continue. I’m exhausted and drained.

Here’s the thing. I write every single day. I don’t know why I stopped posting. If you’re a regular reader, you’ll know that writing is part of what I do for a living. But I don’t write for myself. I write for an establishment and for people.

This is also going to be the time where I get to write. Not necessarily at this exact time, I hope I get to write more in the time where my soul isn’t being nourished.

The End .