Do the perfect friends even exist?
Here’s a million questions with no answers:
Everybody’s got flaws. I mean, we’re not perfect, why should we be demanding perfection? Is it better to settle for an imperfect friend than no friend? Do we think this way because we’ve become conformists, or is it realists? How do we even deal with the concept of “good” friendships? When is a friend crossing the line? (I think I know the answer to that one.) Should they be allowed in our lives once they cross the line?
Here’s what I think: find the balance. No, I really don’t know. I’m just another human being trying to find the answers to my questions, trying to make the right decisions. Going with the flow because I don’t know where to go. Life can be so heavy. A decent human being to call friend is not too much to ask.
Just a thought.
I’ve never been able to finish reading a book in one day or one week, not even in a month. Short attention span is a bitch. It took me a year to complete a 200-page book called The Bitch In The House. Nonfiction, especially by funny comedians, tend to hook me quicker. In an attempt to read more, I’ve purchased The Bed Wetter by Sarah Silverman; Are You There Vodka, It’s Me Chelsea by Chelsea Handler; Bossy Pants by Tina Fey; and an audio book (which is not funny at all, just depressing) called The Story of Mary MacLane by McLane herself. I’ve finished none.
They’re all interesting books, but I keep putting them down. The Story of Mary McLane, however, really got me to read (or listen) farther than the rest. Obviously I must be into depressing nonfiction. I listened to that book whenever I went on long train rides (a sign that maybe audio books are a better alternative for people with short attention span). Well, I have finished none.
This, people, is why I read and write short stories. It’s not easy for some of us to stay on track. Where was I gain…