• Dagwood222@lemm.ee
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    1 month ago

    Old joke.

    Edgar Allan Poe was famous for his tales of madness, death, and betrayal.

    One day Poe meets a friend on the street. The friend asks Poe how his day is going.

    “Splendidly! I wrote two poems this morning and my publisher liked both. I gave a talk at the Literary Club and was lauded. And just now I found a $20 gold piece.”

    “Wonderful! Sounds like the kind of day that makes you glad to be alive!”

    “Well, let’s not go overboard.”

  • Kyrgizion@lemmy.world
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    1 month ago

    Oh don’t worry, the good days are so far and few between now that they stick out like sore thumbs.

  • Uriel238 [all pronouns]@lemmy.blahaj.zone
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    1 month ago

    I mitigate my personal sense of failure with a corresponding failure of society to allow me (or anyone) a fraction of a chance.

    As my cat reminds me, there is no legitimate judge of success or failure: We live, until the moment we cease to live, and then we simply are not.

    Sin and crime are artificial constructs of ministerial systems. If you want to worry about right and wrong, do so in context to yourself, your neighbor and your community. This is where real help and real harm occur.

    Also no war but class war. We’ve nothing to lose but our chains. ACAB. Etc.

  • Jo Miran@lemmy.ml
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    1 month ago

    I’ve got this one covered. No matter how much and how often I succeed, I still see myself as a failure.