March

The noblest art is that of making others happy.

~PT Barnum

The Distraction that is The Sims

3rd September 2019 

To those who are no longer with me, 



There is a plague upon this world, it crawls into the mind of its host and infests it for months at a time, it becomes the source of all procrastination, nothing ever gets done, and then just as quickly as it came, it disappears. Its name sparks horror and chills parents to the bone. It is called The Sims.  
The Sims is a weird one, most of us love it, we really do, but oddly we tend to have bursts of energy when it comes to actually playing it. Well, I know this is true for myself. I’ll have maybe a three-month period where nothing gets done because I’ll be so distracted by the Sims and I’ll play it religiously. Then one day I’ll get bored and won’t touch the game for maybe six months or more.
Right now I’m trying to get it out of my system, I have a week left before I go back to university for my second year of studying law, and if I thought last year was hard, then this year is going to be like walking through a forest, except the whole forest is on fire, the sky is falling and I’m trying to save a friend.
I don’t want to move in next weekend and still find myself craving to play The Sims and end up behind in my studies before I have even really started.
I love the Sims; I really do but it really is such a distraction and that is the one thing I hate about it. Take yesterday for example, I was supposed to spend the day in my room (which is now my mums craft room) and sort out some of my remaining stuff that is under the desk, and whoops, I spent the day playing Sims instead.
Today will be the same, I said to myself yesterday that I would do it today but I feel like crap so I won’t, I’ll turn on Sims and allow myself to be willingly distracted, but tomorrow I’m going to have to put my own foot down and do the things I said I would do today and yesterday.

So, that is what you’ve missed.
Love always,
Tiffany Jade
Xo

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Water
Everything on the earth bristled, the bramble
pricked and the green thread
nibbled away, the petal fell, falling
until the only flower was the falling itself.
Water is another matter,
has no direction but its own bright grace,
runs through all imaginable colors,
takes limpid lessons
from stone,
and in those functionings plays out
the unrealized ambitions of the foam.

~Pablo Neruda