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Getting attached to your own creations

Started by Susan Diaz3 · · 👁 6 views · 31 replies

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Participants Susan Diaz3Zachary Cook2hiddenhound3Peter Phillips32Daniel Lewis2silentbison23Jeremy Davis7Sean Cruzboldsailor32steelskipper4rustymaker5Drew Morgandustyskipper3jademarlin26Chris Lopez59wearyowl29Scott Brown6
dustyskipper3 dustyskipper3 Active Member
192 messages
joined Dec 2009
#21 ·
Are you familiar with what mandalas actually are?
It isn't just limited to Buddhism; other belief systems touch on them too, I suppose.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mandala

The visualization and concretization of The mandala Concept is One of The most significant contributions of Buddhism to Transpersonal Psychology. Mandalas are seen as sacred places which, by their very presence in the world, remind a viewer of the immanence of sanctity in the universe and its potential in his or her self. In The context of The Buddhist path, the purpose of a mandala is to put an end to human suffering, to attain enlightenment, and to attain a correct view of reality. It is a means to discover divinity by the realization that divinity resides within one's own self.

Perhaps the Sirius collection could also become a sort of sacred thing, maybe... something that reminds us of how sanctity is always present in space and its potential within ourselves. But, there might come a moment where a mandala needs to be destroyed, much like a snake sheds its skin just to keep growing. Or perhaps to head in a new direction entirely. You can tell that moment has arrived when the mandala stops being an exit from suffering or a path toward enlightenment, and instead, begins to cause suffering, binding us to a cycle of illusion or samsara. Maybe the Sirius collection is one such illusion. I guess we outgrow our own works too, eventually. We aren't at that same spiritual level anymore once we've finished them. Many writers never even look back at their old stuff, and if they do, it's almost like they feel someone else wrote it. There are times when it feels necessary to burn one's own work—not literally, I mean, but internally. Once it's written, you've already let go and moved past it, moving in a new direction, kind of like... well, forgive me, but like when you relieve yourself. And then some editor comes along and packages it all up nicely so others might buy it and feed off it. Until they get bored of it too, I suppose, and just toss it all into the river.
hiddenhound3 hiddenhound3 Regular
309 messages
joined Feb 2018
#22 ·
dustyskipper3 said:Are you familiar with what mandalas actually are?
It isn't just limited to Buddhism; other belief systems touch on them too, I suppose.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mandala

The visualization and concretization of The mandala Concept is One of The most significant contributions of Buddhism to Transpersonal Psychology. Mandalas are seen as sacred places which, by their very presence in the world, remind a viewer of the immanence of sanctity in the universe and its potential in his or her self. In The context of The Buddhist path, the purpose of a mandala is to put an end to human suffering, to attain enlightenment, and to attain a correct view of reality. It is a means to discover divinity by the realization that divinity resides within one's own self.

Perhaps the Sirius collection could also become a sort of sacred thing, maybe... something that reminds us of how sanctity is always present in space and its potential within ourselves. But, there might come a moment where a mandala needs to be destroyed, much like a snake sheds its skin just to keep growing. Or perhaps to head in a new direction entirely. You can tell that moment has arrived when the mandala stops being an exit from suffering or a path toward enlightenment, and instead, begins to cause suffering, binding us to a cycle of illusion or samsara. Maybe the Sirius collection is one such illusion. I guess we outgrow our own works too, eventually. We aren't at that same spiritual level anymore once we've finished them. Many writers never even look back at their old stuff, and if they do, it's almost like they feel someone else wrote it. There are times when it feels necessary to burn one's own work—not literally, I mean, but internally. Once it's written, you've already let go and moved past it, moving in a new direction, kind of like... well, forgive me, but like when you relieve yourself. And then some editor comes along and packages it all up nicely so others might buy it and feed off it. Until they get bored of it too, I suppose, and just toss it all into the river.

According to Jung, a mandala serves as an expression of the self. They are typically circular, and I have always perceived them as a circular—or perhaps spiral—movement toward the center; or, to borrow once more from Jung, a movement toward individuation. Is the act of creation itself a form of individuation? I would argue that it absolutely is. 🤷

Here is a particularly beautiful one:

image

To expand further on the relationship between Jung, the mandala, and our attachment to our own creative output: circling endlessly around one's own body of work is essentially nothing more than circling the traces of one's own self.
Jeremy Davis7 Jeremy Davis7 Active Member
55 messages
joined Oct 2007
#23 ·
hiddenhound3 says;
...Circling one's own life's work would be circling the traces of one's own self.

Basically, that lines up perfectly with what N'Dug noticed.
At some point, that pursuit becomes its own purpose; it starts feeding itself...
When I take a step back and look "inside," trying to get some perspective, that initial spark that drove me toward SF was just this kid-like fascination with the infinite scale of space...that one moment of realization, this deep, aching hunger for something I couldn't even put into words...

As a kid, on clear nights, I’d spend hours alone just lying in the grass, staring up at the stars (especially when I could make out the shape of our galaxy—the Milky Way)...just totally spontaneous, no reason for it.
I’d recommend everyone try it once in a while... just "stare" into it.

After a while, that incomprehensible, massive grandeur of the void you’re standing before... the thing you’re staring into, trying to pierce through... it just swallows you whole. And for a split second—one you can't possibly "hold onto"—you realize it with this intense, piercing lucidity... a flash of deep, pure, ecstatic "understanding" of something you won't ever be able to explain.

Then, suddenly, it hits you: everything was right there, on the tip of your tongue, within reach, but no matter how hard you try, you just can't grasp what it actually was...

Those moments echo deep inside anyone capable of triggering them, fueling this constant longing for something... mmm!
That longing (as I see it... that realization) is really all we have.
It's the only thing that pushes us forward... like a distant call, a lighthouse flashing for a second to remind us which way to head...

For someone who can keep the "echo" of that moment alive in their soul—who can remember that ecstatic state—nothing in this world can shake them.

Without that blessing, that internal drive, we're just walking corpses wandering around aimlessly.

Anything can trigger those "flashes" of understanding (honestly, I'd say everything around us does)... everything in our environment has that potential; it's soaked in it.
For some, it might be a specific tone... music that hits them hard, a breathtaking view... a situation they find themselves in, or even a gentle touch from someone—literally anything.

For me, it was that childhood obsession with space... it branded me, leaving this overwhelming ache for something I only managed to glimpse for a heartbeat.
And then, almost frantically, we try to recreate those moments (that "ecstatic understanding" that hits some people more clearly than others)—recycling, repeating the exact scenario where that "lucidity" caught us off guard.
I'd go so far as to say most people can't even detect that impulse on a conscious level... but regardless, we all react to it in much the same way.

The problem is, the memory of those moments—for those lucky enough to experience them—fades away... it slips away unnoticed, and all that's left is an obsession with the outward form.
So, someone who felt that deep, unutterable surge of emotion from a certain tone or piece of music... they become obsessed with music. They start collecting albums, learning instruments, obsessing over high-end audio gear... I won't bore you with the details.

The initial spark happened deep in the soul, but unfortunately, all that remains is a desperate attempt to "relive" it, which eventually gets forgotten entirely.

Someone else gets swept away by a sight and dives into painting... a third wants to be an astronaut... a fourth gets hooked on a book or an author... a fifth loses themselves in science, etc. Everyone is just trying to dig through whatever they do to find the seed of the obsession they got stuck in.
From a certain "grounded" perspective, this stuff isn't necessarily bad... it can actually result in some beautiful breakthroughs in science or art... but you have to remember that these "works," these achievements, aren't the end goal themselves.
What really matters is the inspiration—that raw impulse that forces us to act through whatever form or shape it takes on the material or intellectual level...

My own obsession, the specific shape I’ve buried myself in, was SF.
Just frantically collecting everything under the sun related to it.
All while ignoring the fact that I'm basically using it as a way to cling to that initial spark that inspired me at the very beginning...

I consider one of the most defining moments of my life to be exactly what I described a few posts back... that moment when, deep in my soul, I finally became aware.

Even though I’m neck-deep in the daily grind that makes up a life... taking care of the kids, struggling with work just like anyone else—look, I KNOW WHERE MY HEART IS!
I count that as my greatest achievement in life!

No matter what I'm doing, where I am, or what I'm facing... deep down, I know what I want. I listen to that inner voice—clear as a child's—and thank God that every once in a while, I still hear it loud and clear, feeling ecstatic and moved.

In those moments, everything makes sense. Everything gets saturated with an emotion so heavy it catches in your throat and brings spontaneous tears to your eyes... suddenly, any stranger you run into feels like a brother or sister you'd give the shirt off your back to, just because.
And from experience, I know these moments don't last long; they fade over time... but I never forget them.
Every single time, the feeling lasts longer and carries more weight with His presence.

I'm a patient guy now. Nothing really shakes me anymore... nothing really charms me.

None of that garbage... the stories, the marketing, or the cheap sexiness that permeates everything we touch and that we stick to like flies.

I know what I'm waiting for. Unwavering as a rock, I know that everything and everyone in this beautiful world we inherited has the potential to surprise me... to wake that emotion up again.

Without that realization, life is just a desert, and everything we do is just mindless wandering...

🙂
Zachary Cook2 Zachary Cook2 Active Member
79 messages
joined Sep 2009
#24 ·

Jeremy Davis7 said:hiddenhound3 says;
...Circling one's own life's work would be circling the traces of one's own self.

Basically, that lines up perfectly with what N'Dug noticed.
At some point, that pursuit becomes its own purpose; it starts feeding itself...
When I take a step back and look "inside," trying to get some perspective, that initial spark that drove me toward SF was just this kid-like fascination with the infinite scale of space...that one moment of realization, this deep, aching hunger for something I couldn't even put into words...

As a kid, on clear nights, I’d spend hours alone just lying in the grass, staring up at the stars (especially when I could make out the shape of our galaxy—the Milky Way)...just totally spontaneous, no reason for it.
I’d recommend everyone try it once in a while... just "stare" into it.

After a while, that incomprehensible, massive grandeur of the void you’re standing before... the thing you’re staring into, trying to pierce through... it just swallows you whole. And for a split second—one you can't possibly "hold onto"—you realize it with this intense, piercing lucidity... a flash of deep, pure, ecstatic "understanding" of something you won't ever be able to explain.

Then, suddenly, it hits you: everything was right there, on the tip of your tongue, within reach, but no matter how hard you try, you just can't grasp what it actually was...

Those moments echo deep inside anyone capable of triggering them, fueling this constant longing for something... mmm!
That longing (as I see it... that realization) is really all we have.
It's the only thing that pushes us forward... like a distant call, a lighthouse flashing for a second to remind us which way to head...

For someone who can keep the "echo" of that moment alive in their soul—who can remember that ecstatic state—nothing in this world can shake them.

Without that blessing, that internal drive, we're just walking corpses wandering around aimlessly.

Anything can trigger those "flashes" of understanding (honestly, I'd say everything around us does)... everything in our environment has that potential; it's soaked in it.
For some, it might be a specific tone... music that hits them hard, a breathtaking view... a situation they find themselves in, or even a gentle touch from someone—literally anything.

For me, it was that childhood obsession with space... it branded me, leaving this overwhelming ache for something I only managed to glimpse for a heartbeat.
And then, almost frantically, we try to recreate those moments (that "ecstatic understanding" that hits some people more clearly than others)—recycling, repeating the exact scenario where that "lucidity" caught us off guard.
I'd go so far as to say most people can't even detect that impulse on a conscious level... but regardless, we all react to it in much the same way.

The problem is, the memory of those moments—for those lucky enough to experience them—fades away... it slips away unnoticed, and all that's left is an obsession with the outward form.
So, someone who felt that deep, unutterable surge of emotion from a certain tone or piece of music... they become obsessed with music. They start collecting albums, learning instruments, obsessing over high-end audio gear... I won't bore you with the details.

The initial spark happened deep in the soul, but unfortunately, all that remains is a desperate attempt to "relive" it, which eventually gets forgotten entirely.

Someone else gets swept away by a sight and dives into painting... a third wants to be an astronaut... a fourth gets hooked on a book or an author... a fifth loses themselves in science, etc. Everyone is just trying to dig through whatever they do to find the seed of the obsession they got stuck in.
From a certain "grounded" perspective, this stuff isn't necessarily bad... it can actually result in some beautiful breakthroughs in science or art... but you have to remember that these "works," these achievements, aren't the end goal themselves.
What really matters is the inspiration—that raw impulse that forces us to act through whatever form or shape it takes on the material or intellectual level...

My own obsession, the specific shape I’ve buried myself in, was SF.
Just frantically collecting everything under the sun related to it.
All while ignoring the fact that I'm basically using it as a way to cling to that initial spark that inspired me at the very beginning...

I consider one of the most defining moments of my life to be exactly what I described a few posts back... that moment when, deep in my soul, I finally became aware.

Even though I’m neck-deep in the daily grind that makes up a life... taking care of the kids, struggling with work just like anyone else—look, I KNOW WHERE MY HEART IS!
I count that as my greatest achievement in life!

No matter what I'm doing, where I am, or what I'm facing... deep down, I know what I want. I listen to that inner voice—clear as a child's—and thank God that every once in a while, I still hear it loud and clear, feeling ecstatic and moved.

In those moments, everything makes sense. Everything gets saturated with an emotion so heavy it catches in your throat and brings spontaneous tears to your eyes... suddenly, any stranger you run into feels like a brother or sister you'd give the shirt off your back to, just because.
And from experience, I know these moments don't last long; they fade over time... but I never forget them.
Every single time, the feeling lasts longer and carries more weight with His presence.

I'm a patient guy now. Nothing really shakes me anymore... nothing really charms me.

None of that garbage... the stories, the marketing, or the cheap sexiness that permeates everything we touch and that we stick to like flies.

I know what I'm waiting for. Unwavering as a rock, I know that everything and everyone in this beautiful world we inherited has the potential to surprise me... to wake that emotion up again.

Without that realization, life is just a desert, and everything we do is just mindless wandering...

🙂

😂😂😂
Some people might interpret that differently 😂😂😂

But then again, that's just how it feels when you realize you're smaller than a grain of sand! 👍😉
Every single time, it gets heavier—that weight of His presence. I'm a patient guy; nothing really shakes me anymore... or even charms me.

You have a pure connection with Him. The SPIRIT is present with anyone willing to open up, and from what I can see, you definitely are! 👍
I know exactly what I'm waiting for. I'm steady as a rock, knowing that everything and everyone in this incredible world we inherited has the potential to surprise me...

Hmm, technically you don't actually know what you're waiting for. If you set your intention that firmly, though, you'll eventually run right into whatever it is.

Without that realization, life is just a desert, and everything we do is mindless wandering...

👍
Susan Diaz3 Susan Diaz3 NewcomerOP
4 messages
joined Sep 2009
#25 ·
Drew Morgan said:This is a fascinating topic!

Drew Morgan, try doing the exact opposite of your usual routine—give your work away for free or just sell it off. Once you let go, you won't be so emotionally tethered to it. Ultimately, the act of creation matters more than the final product itself.

I deal with an even worse issue—I get pathologically attached to my concepts. I try to force them into reality, but it rarely works because those ideas come from a world of ideas—things like justice and other abstract nonsense. 😍

I also struggle to let go of things I’m not even personally invested in; they just end up irritating me. I really respect this artist. When I die, I don't want to leave anything material behind as a burden, least of all my own body.

I already give most of what I make away, since I hate buying generic gifts (unless they are books 😍), but selling stuff is just... tricky. You have to weigh the value against the materials and the hours spent, but then again, these are unique pieces, and that carries a price... so if I were to sell anything, the price would be a bit "outrageous" and out of reach for many, but I think it would be wrong to sell for less because I put so much time and effort into it. I guess I'd rather sit around doing nothing than work for nothing, right?😉

Drew Morgan said:This is a fascinating topic!

Drew Morgan, try doing the exact opposite of your usual routine—give your work away for free or just sell it off. Once you let go, you won't be so emotionally tethered to it. Ultimately, the act of creation matters more than the final product itself.

I deal with an even worse issue—I get pathologically attached to my concepts. I try to force them into reality, but it rarely works because those ideas come from a world of ideas—things like justice and other abstract nonsense. 😍

I also struggle to let go of things I’m not even personally invested in; they just end up irritating me. I really respect this artist. When I die, I don't want to leave anything material behind as a burden, least of all my own body.

A lot of us hold those kinds of ideas, but in today's environment, it is hard to put them into practice the way we want to🤷 maybe it won't always be this way.

Jeremy Davis7, that example you gave about Sirius is great. For me, I collect books—I think my "private library" and all my computer and tech gear cost me about the same amount... but I can't imagine just tossing it all. I want to leave it all to my kids as a legacy, along with my love for reading.😍

For me, destroying the journals I wrote for five years was a kind of catharsis. A few times I went back to look through them, and every single time, the gloom radiating from the pages put me in such a bad mood that one day I decided I never wanted to look back. I took scissors, shredded everything into tiny pieces, and threw it all in the trash.

I will comment more later; you guys have all said some really interesting things.🙂
jademarlin26 jademarlin26 Active Member
158 messages
joined Sep 2008
#26 ·
Zachary Cook2 said:😂😂😂
Some people might interpret that differently 😂😂😂

But then again, that's just how it feels when you realize you're smaller than a grain of sand! 👍😉
Every single time, it gets heavier—that weight of His presence. I'm a patient guy; nothing really shakes me anymore... or even charms me.

You have a pure connection with Him. The SPIRIT is present with anyone willing to open up, and from what I can see, you definitely are! 👍
I know exactly what I'm waiting for. I'm steady as a rock, knowing that everything and everyone in this incredible world we inherited has the potential to surprise me...

Hmm, technically you don't actually know what you're waiting for. If you set your intention that firmly, though, you'll eventually run right into whatever it is.

Without that realization, life is just a desert, and everything we do is mindless wandering...

👍

When you see the entire world within a grain of sand, as W. Blake suggested, scale ceases to matter because the manifestation of the transcendent within the material becomes obvious. You observe the night sky over a rural town and a shy flower on a dew-covered meadow with the exact same level of awe. What previously seemed like a hierarchy of existence collapses; the high becomes low, the low becomes high, until the very concept of category becomes meaningless. It applies to the heavens and the earth alike. To the external and the internal. Beyond cause and effect.

As for attachment... there is no healthy attachment that isn't tied to a specific script. What actually releases the bound is true understanding—not mere reconciliation or repression, which eventually detonates like a time bomb and manifests externally as "fate."
Chris Lopez59 Chris Lopez59 Active Member
61 messages
joined May 2007
#27 ·
Actually, not quite. I’d honestly love to gift one of my creations to someone, provided there comes a day when I no longer have a practical use for it. Speaking of things I've made, take this living space, for instance—I built the interior from the studs up. Eventually, I'll leave it to someone else to call home, because the heart and soul I poured into building it doesn't just vanish into thin air once I walk away.

But don't get it twisted; that doesn't mean I'm some detached person who doesn't get attached or feel the sting of losing—or destroying—things. When I look back at everything beautiful I've bought and subsequently lost, it isn't the loss itself that hurts, but rather the realization that it's damn hard to find something that lovely or high-quality again when you actually want it. Every valuable thing I've lost feels like a genuine setback because you can never reinvest enough money to recreate that level of quality, and let's be real, there's never enough cash to fund your ambitions. Not to mention, I wasn't exactly raised to be a fan of throwing things away for nothing.🙂Is that materialism? Personally, I don't think so, though I'm certain plenty of people will jump down my throat and disagree.
Zachary Cook2 Zachary Cook2 Active Member
79 messages
joined Sep 2009
#28 ·
jademarlin26 said:

When you see the entire world within a grain of sand, as W. Blake suggested, scale ceases to matter because the manifestation of the transcendent within the material becomes obvious. You observe the night sky over a rural town and a shy flower on a dew-covered meadow with the exact same level of awe. What previously seemed like a hierarchy of existence collapses; the high becomes low, the low becomes high, until the very concept of category becomes meaningless. It applies to the heavens and the earth alike. To the external and the internal. Beyond cause and effect.

As for attachment... there is no healthy attachment that isn't tied to a specific script. What actually releases the bound is true understanding—not mere reconciliation or repression, which eventually detonates like a time bomb and manifests externally as "fate."
When you see the entire world within a grain of sand, as W. Blake suggested, scale ceases to matter because the manifestation of the transcendent within the material becomes obvious. You observe the night sky over a rural town and a shy flower on a dew-covered meadow with the exact same level of awe. What previously seemed like a hierarchy of existence collapses; the high becomes low, the low becomes high, until the very concept of category becomes meaningless. It applies to the heavens and the earth alike. To the external and the internal. Beyond cause and effect.

As for attachment... there is no healthy attachment that isn't tied to a specific script. What actually releases the bound is true understanding—not mere reconciliation or repression, which eventually detonates like a time bomb and manifests externally as "fate."
Yeah, that’s the feeling right there. I get it. I find myself getting excited over the smallest bits of nature—stuff that the egoistic, materialistic hordes would call "insignificant" or invisible.

😉
Zachary Cook2 Zachary Cook2 Active Member
79 messages
joined Sep 2009
#29 ·
Chris Lopez59 said:Actually, not quite. I’d honestly love to gift one of my creations to someone, provided there comes a day when I no longer have a practical use for it. Speaking of things I've made, take this living space, for instance—I built the interior from the studs up. Eventually, I'll leave it to someone else to call home, because the heart and soul I poured into building it doesn't just vanish into thin air once I walk away.

But don't get it twisted; that doesn't mean I'm some detached person who doesn't get attached or feel the sting of losing—or destroying—things. When I look back at everything beautiful I've bought and subsequently lost, it isn't the loss itself that hurts, but rather the realization that it's damn hard to find something that lovely or high-quality again when you actually want it. Every valuable thing I've lost feels like a genuine setback because you can never reinvest enough money to recreate that level of quality, and let's be real, there's never enough cash to fund your ambitions. Not to mention, I wasn't exactly raised to be a fan of throwing things away for nothing.🙂Is that materialism? Personally, I don't think so, though I'm certain plenty of people will jump down my throat and disagree.

and
money is never enough to cover big plans.

not to mention I wasn't exactly raised to just throw things away carelessly🙂—so, is that materialism?
personally, I don't think so.

,[/I]

Don't try to nurture it...
Don't bother planning...
Don't even think about it...
wearyowl29 wearyowl29 Regular
715 messages
joined Feb 2014
#30 ·
Ha... whether we're "binding" ourselves or not... any creation of ours, whatever its nature might be—whether it flew out from some corner of our mind, heart, or soul and landed on sheet music, canvas, paper, wood, clay, or whatever else—is inherently a PART of us.
Maybe it’s also that neglected, unconscious part of us—that byproduct of the creative process we don't immediately notice or even care about. I truly believe that we become aware of our power to create, perhaps not right in the heat of the moment, but certainly once it's done. We see new matter, new content, a new perspective, or even just new and changed versions of ourselves emerging through the act. All of this can bind us to the creation, sometimes strongly, sometimes weakly.

So, how on earth do you separate a creation from its creator when the very act of creating, that spark of existence, is our natural way of binding ourselves together... how are we supposed to avoid being tied down???

You can't.

Because let's not forget: we aren't just shaping the material world around us; we are, in a sense, our own creators too. We tweak ourselves, remodel ourselves whenever we feel like it. We're constantly fine-tuning who we are. So, if we're so deeply attached to ourselves, how could we possibly not be attached to what we've built?
Zachary Cook2 Zachary Cook2 Active Member
79 messages
joined Sep 2009
#31 ·
wearyowl29 said:Ha... whether we're "binding" ourselves or not... any creation of ours, whatever its nature might be—whether it flew out from some corner of our mind, heart, or soul and landed on sheet music, canvas, paper, wood, clay, or whatever else—is inherently a PART of us.
Maybe it’s also that neglected, unconscious part of us—that byproduct of the creative process we don't immediately notice or even care about. I truly believe that we become aware of our power to create, perhaps not right in the heat of the moment, but certainly once it's done. We see new matter, new content, a new perspective, or even just new and changed versions of ourselves emerging through the act. All of this can bind us to the creation, sometimes strongly, sometimes weakly.

So, how on earth do you separate a creation from its creator when the very act of creating, that spark of existence, is our natural way of binding ourselves together... how are we supposed to avoid being tied down???

You can't.

Because let's not forget: we aren't just shaping the material world around us; we are, in a sense, our own creators too. We tweak ourselves, remodel ourselves whenever we feel like it. We're constantly fine-tuning who we are. So, if we're so deeply attached to ourselves, how could we possibly not be attached to what we've built?

It's easy—just don't give a damn about it..!!

Take this, for example; I bought a new car. It wasn't my "creation" per se, but it was the exact one I ordered, specifically chosen, and I waited six months for delivery.

Fast forward three months—I'm driving along, enjoying that metallic paint job I waited so long for, and my kids decide to throw a massive rock at the hood during a game... leaving this pretty significant dent right there...😲

So what now? ... NOTHING, REALLY!!
I didn't even blink. Honestly, two years later, that dent is still sitting there on the hood.

Some people would spend months moping over something like that...
Even today, friends will swing by and go, "Man, what a shame!" Like, why should I care??

Pfft... whatever. In five years, it’ll just be an old clunker anyway—a pile of scrap metal. Why bother being upset about it?....

😂

Every time I think about my best man, 😂 the guy takes his car to the car wash every few days—it's cleaner on the inside than a brand-new showroom model...😂

🙂
Scott Brown6 Scott Brown6 Member
10 messages
joined Jul 2007
#32 ·
Morgana, I can only echo exactly what you said in your opening post. Honestly, it’s the same story over here—I don't see anything there that actually needs changing.🙂

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