I still look at things and think: mortal, transient, likely to be wasting my finite and limited time. Maybe it will pass (well of course it will, that's the bleedin' point, but I mean maybe it's just a phase. Hmm- maybe there is a tie-in with stress at work.) But something new just occured to me: maybe the problem comes from my religous upbringing- I blame the world for being fragile and the universe for being impermanent because I secretly apply the impossible standards of immortality that I learned in my youth. If the Universe as we know it is itself fleeting, than the seeming triviality of the things that make me happy is no crime. "Life can then little else supply / But a few good fucks and then we die" indeed. Doing goofy little pleasurable things is what the universe is all about.     --00-4-4
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