Creatures of habit, life backpack

I wish life came equipped with a personalized backpack. One that had a life manual (made for your exact life experiences, in your time and space, body, in your frame of mind, with terms you understand, with an easy index for quick references when needed). My backpack would also have a utility knife, an emotional support item (?), a towel (because they’re handy) a journal, and a pillow. Maybe it could be one like Dora that had all the things you needed for whatever adventure was before you. But that seems way too outlandish now. 🀣😝


We are such creatures of habit. Our lives become like a wheelbarrow groove that becomes its own worst enemy if we try to veer away from the path we’ve always taken, especially when it comes to our very own thoughts.

Most people get to a place where they box up everything they know and believe and live only what’s in that box. Anything outside of that box doesn’t need to be looked at. It isn’t part of their narrative and it simply isn’t seen, known or acknowledged. It doesn’t really count anymore. And stepping outside of that box can cause such severe discomfort that it feels almost unbearable to people.

This is why I like to push myself outside of my own comfort zones. This is why when people seem to genuinely want me to see part of themselves, their lives, a different reality, I try to put my own thoughts aside to really look and understand where they are. This isn’t always easy but it always has its merits and I always learn something new, if not about my own self, about the world and the experiences possible in this existence.

I can’t say I do it marvelously. This thing called life. If anything I fail miserably almost constantly at trying to be open and compassionate, authentically myself; honest, vulnerable and real. But I keep trying. Guess that’s all there is to that. Since I wasn’t given any backpack to help me. I’ll just keep plugging along figuring things out as I go.


I realized this morning than more than stability outside of myself ,what I truly want is stability (peace, comfort, serenity, contentedness) within myself. But……. these kidlets, that keep me grounded and give me purpose need tangible stability. So that’s what I have to achieve for them. That’s my job. That’s my real job. The most important one I have right now.

But hey….no pressure. πŸ™„



I reference the days a lot in my blog. Like…..

Happy Monday!!πŸ’–πŸ€—πŸŒˆ

Truthfully it’s just a way to mark the time for myself. I honestly don’t care what day it is. Especially because I work any day I can and am always doing something work related at some point. So it’s just all a blur to me really. Like what does it really matter?

But today seems a day most people tend to loathe. But I bet there are a lot of people who actually really like Mondays. Right? Probably, somewhere.

It’s all relative. Today’s is just another day and I’m going to choose to try to enjoy the fuck out of it, as much as absolutely possible. That’s the goal for every day really. But people seem to make exceptions for this day for some reason and I don’t see why. πŸ˜‚πŸ€£πŸ˜‚

But like I always say……

This is just what I seem to have noted, but what do I know? πŸ€ͺπŸ€·πŸ½β€β™€οΈ


Author: porngirl3

I have always enjoyed reading and writing. Maybe because I have always been on the quiet and reclusive side; which most people may not guess at first glance or if seeing me in a social setting, especially around people I am comfortable with but it’s also not something I have an issue with. I need solitude to recharge. Writing gives me the peace and time to renew that is offered to you for your enjoyment and pleasure as well. I hope. Lol

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