Well this is kind of fun.
The other night, using some of my tweets from Twitter, I created a few Ecards on SomeEcards. (What can I say, I was bored.) When I checked the SomeEcards site today, I saw that one of mine was featured on the homepage, as an Editor’s pick. WOOT!
Self-deprecatingly Correct | SomeEcards
funny, humor, sarcasm, self-deprecating humor, shit i write, someecards, websites
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Half the people can be part right all of the time, an'
Some of the people can be all right part of the time,
But all the people can't be all right all of the time.
I think Abraham Lincoln said that.
"I'll let you be in my dream if I can be in yours."
I said that.
— Bob Dylan, Talkin’ World War III Blues
This grief is too much to bear.
If there was a tight order to the world that you made, it’s come unspooled and no one will wind it up again.
God, I feel it coming, that ache for the stories that will never be told. And an anger rising when i remember what never should have been.
— Kate Bowler, The Lives We Actually Have
The sight of that cemetery still gave Frank nightmares. Hoping to find jewelry buried with the dead, the Yankee soldiers had broken open vaults, dug up graves. They had robbed the bodies, stripped from the coffins gold and silver name plates, silver trimmings and silver handles. The skeletons and corpses, flung helter-skelter among their splintered caskets, lay exposed and so pitiful.
I never thought my life would turn out like this. Suddenly, I was forty-five. Suburban and manic. As beige and lumpy as oatmeal. Was this it? Were my best years all gone? And if so, who would ever take me seriously—or love me—or even look at me again? In the past, I’d kept such wretched thoughts at bay by drinking.
— Susan Jane Gilman, Donna Has Left the Building
When I was a child, I would always love it when disaster happened. It meant that I could run into a room and say, “The cat has died.” Or “The gerbils have drowned.” I have a mawkish, voyeuristic relationship with mishap, life’s brutal ability to upend destiny and disrupt the future you have marked out in your head. I like the look on people’s faces when they stop and listen.
— Abi Morgan, This is Not A Pity Memoir
Do not stand
At my grave and weep
I am not there,
I do not sleep.
I am a thousand
Winds that blow,
I am the diamond
Glints on snow.
I am the sunlight
On the ripened grain.
I am the gentle
Autumn’s rain.
When you awaken
In the morning hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet bird in
Circled flight.
I am the soft stars
That shine at night.
Do not stand
At my grave and cry.
I am not there.
I did not die.
— Hopi Prayer, Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep
This is the strangeness of memory: in recalling a moment, I am instantly reminded of all the details that elude me, and feel myself making them up even as I say “this is certainly true; and this, and this.” But my first sighting of you has never been vulnerable to such corruption. I remember everything.
In that moment, I suddenly loved us all the more for our flaws, for being broken and human, for being embarrassed and lonely, for being hopeful or tired or disappointed or sick or brave or angry. For being who we were, for making the world interesting. It was a good reminder that the human condition is imperfection. And that's how it's supposed to be.
— Katherine Center, Everyone is Beautiful