there are no regular days except that all days are irregular. today was a test day but it was not like friday's test day, nor will it be like tomorrow's test day. the ground i walked on may at first glance seem to be the same as yesterday, but with the wind, most of the fine top layer is now probably laid down on the loess hills of iowa. with varying degrees we all like to have some sort of order or sameness to our lives, but yet if was exactly the same, we complain of boredom. even for some of us, unless something really big and different happens every day--which if it did would make the days sort of the same--complain, nothing every happens. everything is in a constant state of motion from the molecules in our bodies to the dust we walk on. of course, there is bigger motions and smaller motions, but motion none-the-less, and if it all stops, we cease to exist. the bigger motions, like water rushing down the mountain, are no more important that the slow erosion of the rock the water runs over. all of the actions are needed to construct life.
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regular, irregular... seems kinda like saying something is chemical free. sure every day is different but also the same. we like to differentiate things so much that sometimes we forget that life is fluid and all one unit, somehow.
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