I remember it being written somewhere, I don’t remember where or when or what the subject at hand was, that living in the past robs from the future and that living in the future robs from the present; it does seem all too distracting to think about during an otherwise perfectly acceptable day. It was that lack of a tomorrow that made yesterday the problem that found its way into today.
Water under tomorrows bridge – so to speak.
My best days are my days lived out of myself whilst my mind attends to greater and more desirable plans for latter, they happen so nicely without my interfering with them.
Is bemuddlement a word?
Is bemuddlement a word?
1 July 06