In which posters remind me about eternity
I guess this is talk-about-my-party week. My roommate and I had a number of people over for a game night/ birthday shindig, and in the process of cleaning the apartment, I decided to finally put my posters up. I originally forwent putting posters up because I absolutely hated my apartment. Having a piece of myself bound to the walls of my apartment was the last thing I wanted. However, time progressed, and I came to terms with living here, and it was the least I could do to spruce my room up.
A quick cell phone snapshot I took right before it came crashing down.
I swear these walls are coated with ACME anti-stick.
From the second I put my posters up, it was like a sadistic game of whack-a-mole. One would fall down, and I would tape it up again. Then another would fall down, and I would fix that one. Then I would leave the room for two seconds and hear a *thud* as two more fell down. I used more double-stick poster tape. I used different kinds of double-stick poster tape. I used single-sided tape.
This continued for a good half a day before I gave up.
It's weird how much effort I put into a handful of posters.
I wanted to make my mark. I quite literally, wanted it to stick. It didn't, and it frustrated me.
But how long would I be in that apartment? A few years at most? What is the true importance of a few posters? None at all.
Sometimes I wonder if we have too many posters in our lives. Too many things that aren't working, but are giving us the runaround. Too many things that don't really matter but are sucking up our time and energy. I was humbled when I remembered that it's Lent, and I haven't really been thinking much about the cross. I was preoccupied with the party, and getting the cake, and putting up posters. How silly.
We lose sight so easily, don't we?
What are your posters? How do you identify or avoid them?
A quick cell phone snapshot I took right before it came crashing down.
I swear these walls are coated with ACME anti-stick.
From the second I put my posters up, it was like a sadistic game of whack-a-mole. One would fall down, and I would tape it up again. Then another would fall down, and I would fix that one. Then I would leave the room for two seconds and hear a *thud* as two more fell down. I used more double-stick poster tape. I used different kinds of double-stick poster tape. I used single-sided tape.
This continued for a good half a day before I gave up.
It's weird how much effort I put into a handful of posters.
I wanted to make my mark. I quite literally, wanted it to stick. It didn't, and it frustrated me.
But how long would I be in that apartment? A few years at most? What is the true importance of a few posters? None at all.
Sometimes I wonder if we have too many posters in our lives. Too many things that aren't working, but are giving us the runaround. Too many things that don't really matter but are sucking up our time and energy. I was humbled when I remembered that it's Lent, and I haven't really been thinking much about the cross. I was preoccupied with the party, and getting the cake, and putting up posters. How silly.
We lose sight so easily, don't we?
What are your posters? How do you identify or avoid them?
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