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Things that I tell myself.
Jim Broede
Posted: Thursday, February 11, 2016 12:13 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


I’d rather live than die.  That’s my conclusion. Every time I visit a dying person. I leave. With a greater resolve. To make the most of my remaining days. Which means. Finding ways to be reasonably happy and content. With life.  Also. I tell myself to not be in a hurry.  To slow down. To take my time. To proceed at a leisurely pace. In accomplishing my goals. As a romantic idealist, a spiritual free-thinker, a political liberal, a lover and a dreamer. --Jim


Jim Broede
Posted: Friday, February 12, 2016 3:15 PM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


It’s nice. To define one’s self. Much better. Than letting others do it for you. I even have a printed calling card.  That defines me. It’s always the start of a good discussion. Especially when I follow up. And ask others to define themselves. Too many don’t have a clue. They know little more. Than their own name. And some aren’t even sure of that. --Jim

 


Jim Broede
Posted: Sunday, February 14, 2016 9:49 PM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


When a loved one dies. I don’t grieve for long. Because I’m a blessed survivor. Ready to get on with life. Thing is.  I really haven’t lost the loved one. I still have his/her spirit. Which is virtually as good as physical presence. Because I’m able to commune with spirits. In grand and glorious ways. --Jim

 


Jim Broede
Posted: Tuesday, February 23, 2016 10:06 PM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


I like people. But especially those who think I’m funny.  If they don’t laugh. At or with me. That worries me. Because I dream of becoming a stand-up comic. Capable of making an audience go into fits of hysterical guffaws. --Jim

 


Jim Broede
Posted: Thursday, February 25, 2016 1:01 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


Always, I have something to write about. A thought or two.  Random thoughts. That come out of the blue. So important. For me. To put thoughts into writing. Because written words tend to be more meaningful. Than spoken words. So much easier to ponder. And to edit. I speak to others. But I mainly write for myself. Thoughts. Thoughts. And more thoughts. Endless thoughts. --Jim
Jim Broede
Posted: Monday, March 7, 2016 11:45 PM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


I’m fascinated. By what makes people tick. To understand their motivations. I’ve been accused of being too nosey. Too prying. But that’s one of my attributes.  An inquiring mind. Maybe that’s why I became a writer. For newspapers. My aim was to get people to talk. To open up. To tell me secrets. To give me the full story. To hide nothing. I’d make a good investigator. That’s part of the news business. Of course, it’s become more of an entertainment business. Which I find hard to accept. But entertainment, not news, is the big thing these days. Maybe I’m more amused than fascinated by it all.  --Jim

 


Jim Broede
Posted: Saturday, March 19, 2016 12:18 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


No sense in losing sleep. Over virtually anything. When going to bed at night, I cleanse my mind of negative thoughts. It’s easy. Comes naturally. After all, I’m entitled to sweet dreams.  Or no dreams at all. Sleep is a gift. A blessing  An opportunity to rest one’s mind. So that one wakens refreshed. Thankfully, I’m not an insomniac. I fall asleep within minutes of my bulky head hitting the soft pillow.  As a prelude to bedtime, I generally sit down at the computer. And write. In ways that put my mind at ease.  Rarely do I sleep in a steady stream that lasts for eight hours, or more. Instead, I like to wake in a few hours.. To stimulate my mind. And to exercise my fertile imagination. About the pleasures and benefits of going back to sleep again. --Jim

 


Jim Broede
Posted: Tuesday, March 22, 2016 1:16 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


I try to have stuff on my mind. If not always. Certainly most of the time. Maybe it’s that I am addicted. To thought. To awareness. That I am a thinking being. That’s an essential part. Of being alive. And being me.  It’s possible. That I go through lapses. Periods. Of a robotic type existence. Going through the motions of living. Unconsciously. As if on automatic pilot. Anyway, I write. Daily. Thoughtful stuff. To prove. That I am a real live and conscious and thriving human being. --Jim

 


Jim Broede
Posted: Thursday, March 31, 2016 6:32 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


For some people. Unreality is reality. That’s the case with my friend Julie. The alcoholic and depression-riddled one. She’s mentally ill. In a constant state of unreality.  But that’s her reality. And who am I to say that she’s being any more unreal than I? Maybe we are all crazy. Julie has created her own world. Except, she has a problem. She has trouble remembering or grasping the significance of her existence. Most of the time she’s oblivious of it all. She doesn’t take time to think. To ponder. Her aliveness. Makes me wonder if Julie is alive. Or if she has lost all awareness. Despite going through the motions of living.  --Jim

 


Jim Broede
Posted: Friday, April 1, 2016 1:15 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


It’s all right to be crazy. That is, if one is constructive crazy. For which I qualify. I have crazy habits. Such as walking 10 miles daily. Up to 70 miles in a week. I have crazy idiosyncrasies, too. Such as being addicted to the Chicago Cubs. I dwell on the Cubs. They’re an obsession. And I write crazy stuff. Daily. And I’ve fallen in love with an Italian. And traipse off to Italy. To be with her. And I’m in touch with her daily. On Skype. And I’m a romantic idealist, a spiritual  free-thinker, a political liberal, a lover, a dreamer. Yes, so very many crazy pursuits But I do no harm. To myself. Or to others. That’s what I mean. Being constructive crazy. Unfortunately, I know too many friends and acquaintances who are destructive crazy.  Such as my dear friend Julie, the alcoholic and depression-riddled. She harms herself. And others, too. I’d have no complaints about Julie. If she were constructive crazy. I deal with Julie. In my role as a dreamer. I dream about the day when Julie becomes good crazy. --Jim

 


Jim Broede
Posted: Monday, April 18, 2016 11:58 PM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


I used to get angry. Over all sorts of things. But now. I hardly ever get angry. Maybe it’s that I’ve learned to recognize. The self-defeating nature of anger. Anyway, most of the time I have no control over the stuff that pisses me off. Therefore, it’s a waste of time to get stressed and bent out of emotional shape. Better to get on with the more pleasant aspects of life. Steering clear of politics and annoying people and bureaucracies. And do you know what?  It works. --Jim

 


Jim Broede
Posted: Wednesday, April 20, 2016 11:21 PM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


I wonder if lying is an art. Everyone lies. To some degree. That’s all right. I accept friends who lie to other people. For good reason. Often to avoid trouble. And to not hurt feelings. Those kinds of lies are tolerable. Acceptable. Because I differentiate. Between good lies and bad lies. Unfortunately, I have several friends that continually lie. To themselves. Often without knowing it. They believe their own lies.  If they merely lie to me and others – well, that ain’t so bad.  As long as they are honest with themselves.  Acknowledging that they are liars.  Often for the sake of convenience.  And even kindness. But if they lie to bamboozle themselves –that’s where the line should be drawn.  Yes, that’s the worst kind of lie. Shameful. To deceive one’s self.  --Jim

 


Jim Broede
Posted: Monday, April 25, 2016 4:05 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


My friend Julie is a liar. She not only lies to her friends and to husband Rick. But to herself. That’s the worst kind of liar. I tell Julie that she’s a liar. But Julie doesn’t want to hear it. So she runs away. And hides. But I keep telling Julie. That I still believe in her. It’s never too late to face the truth. I’ve been told that the truth sets one free. Yes, dear Julie. Please put that adage to a test. --Jim