unbearably long joke sexylittleideas
With No Punchline


When you think about it, life is extremely,

Exhaustingly,

Devastatingly,

Long.

For the intents and purposes of this thought, there are two types of people- the satisfied and the unsatisfied.


If you’re a malcontent, brimming with ambition, always pushing to go further, and never satisfied about your lot in life or your rung on its ladder, life may seem short to you. There’s never enough time to do all the hurrying you want to do, to shoot for all the stars you have it in for.

The malcontent’s legacy is stuck in a perennial race against his/her timeline, a mad dash to immortality one way or the other, and when you think about life in that way, there’s never enough time. Yes, life is too short to become immortal.


If, however, you’re a happy man, thrilled with what the universe has laid in your lap, content to just sit back with a beer and watch the tide roll in, and satisfied with the bounty of beauty that it washes up at your feet, life can seem a bit too perpetual.


For me, the best pleasures are ones that don’t overstay their welcome. They pop into your window, brighten your livingroom, wrinkle all the covers, and then leave you with a smile still ringing between your ears.

A two-minute song. A 1:15 movie. A wave.

A friend’s child. A meal that isn’t supersized. A one-liner.


Life, on the other hand, is like the guest who just won’t leave.

She made you laugh at first with her irreverent antics, and his carelessness was kinda cute I guess the first few times he left his dishes in your sink and his clothes on your floor. But then she took all your blankets one time too many and he puked all over your car seat again, and you began to want just one night to yourself and just one day without driving him around. You kind of began to wish he and she would just leave you alone for a bit.


I don’t want to ever write her off entirely though. To me, the ideal existence would be a period of life, and then a period of not-life (whatever that might be), followed by another period of life then not-life, and so on.

I would rush into life with an unparalleled exuberance and then sink happily into not-life, and then burst into life with vigor and then lay exhausted and cloyed and grateful into not-life. And then leap up and bearhug life and hold it close and then let go and drift contentedly and relieved into not-life. And then back again.

Continued here…