Mention Cheese Puffs and I'm THERE.
Mmm...
Mmm...
On a serious note, how do oneself discover what really is one's arena? How do we know what we are good at? What is the purpose of our existance? I get really bitter about this quite often especially when my mind is not occupied. Where and what exactly is my 'arena'? That is the question.
But I know one thing that is for sure. I love cheese puffs. o.0
What is our life? a play of passion,
Our mirth the musicke of division,
Our mothers wombes the tyring houses be,
When we are drest for this short Comedy,
Heaven the Judicious sharpe spector is,
That sits and markes still who doth act amisse,
Our graves that hide us from the searching Sun,
Are like drawne curtaynes when the play is done,
Thus march we playing to our latest rest,
Onely we dye in earnest, that's no Jest.
"On the Life of Man" by Sir Walter Raleigh
Our mirth the musicke of division,
Our mothers wombes the tyring houses be,
When we are drest for this short Comedy,
Heaven the Judicious sharpe spector is,
That sits and markes still who doth act amisse,
Our graves that hide us from the searching Sun,
Are like drawne curtaynes when the play is done,
Thus march we playing to our latest rest,
Onely we dye in earnest, that's no Jest.
"On the Life of Man" by Sir Walter Raleigh
But I know one thing that is for sure. I love cheese puffs. o.0
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