I’m pretty darn happy.
Yes. I have a totally kickass life.
I strive for contentment;
Not happiness, not to love my life, but to be content.
I’m largely there.
I’m good. I’d like a better job - and a better one for my husband too - but we’re pretty comfortable, we love each other deeply, and we’ve traveled to some great places. Plus we’re pretty healthy; there are some things I’d like to fix but it’s not bad at all, really.
“Love” is a pretty good term for it, yeah. Considering that I’ve been through some crappy times in my life, including times where I’d rather not wake up, I’m pretty pleased.
Two answers:
I value my life, because life is the root of all values.
I enjoy my life as much as I can, but am always working to better it.
I love my life. There is a dancehall song that is popular in reggae clubs right now called “I Love My Life”. It’s one of those feel good songs that you just gotta sing along with.
I am forever grateful to the genius who taught me to truly look at the bright side of every situation and to learn to view every flaw as a unique quirk and every set-back as a challenge. Had I never learned that, I’d be pretty blue 90 percent of the time! And even with that lesson, there are *some *obstacles that just don’t seem to have a silver lining. Still, overall, gotta love life!
ETA: Kelly, one can love their life and be content, right? I mean, not striving for happiness doesn’t mean you can’t love your life, does it?
Life! Don’t talk to me about life.
- Marvin, the Paranoid Android
Yes, I love my life. I have a great job and make a decent wage that allows me to be the sole breadwinner so my wife can stay at home. We have a nice house. My kids are well-adjusted little people. We’re all healthy. We have good friends and supportive family members. I’m the luckiest son of a bitch that ever lived, considering how things could have turned out.
I am more satisfied, content and secure in my life right now than I’ve ever been and than I ever thought I would be.
Sure do.
No not at all but then were better then worse than better then tragic to okay then worse than imaginable seemingly fantastic however false but now sunny or rainy that’s enough… living breathing thinking stardust collective I realize that I am… experiencing anything at all is a miracle that what a lovable life is supposed to be is quite temporal and depend on your mindset.
Nah. I love my wife, and I am in a comfortable rut, but no.
Joe
I love about 30% of my life. The rest I tolerate and cope with the best I can.
Holy crap, have you seen my life? How in the hell could you not! Somebody up there must like me.
Look, a wheat penny!
Sufficiently. It’s certainly better than what I deserve.
Love would be stretching it. I like it a lot. I’m comfortable, I’m able to do pretty much anything I want, I have pretty much anything I want day-to-day, I’m about as healthy as I can be considering how out of shape I am. I’m not contributing nearly as much to the world as I would like, though. I’d need to make a bigger impact to upgrade from “like” to “love”.
This thread makes my life happy. We haven’t heard from PSXer’s friend in some time, and I was starting to wonder if the friend had gotten a mental girlfriend.
My life right now is so good it oughta be illegal.
Gosh yes! Silly little minx that I am, in a transport of ecstasy I allowed my head to be turned by the rakish good looks of my life.
But then my life called and said “Slithy, of course you must understand that last night was a mistake.” I was crestfallen, devastated. Seduced and abandoned!
I found myself taking long, lonely walks at night. Walks that invariably led me past my life’s house, to stand watching through the window as it engaged in the happy rituals of domesticity with that woman and those children. Only I knew what I was watching to be a sham. How could it be anything else, after the brief yet blazing moment of passion my life and I had shared?
I admit I threw all caution, all good breeding, to the four winds as I was engulfed in proving what m heart knew to be true, as I left calls that went unanswered at my life’s home and office.
Part of me, the Slithy that had always done as my mother bid, the part that kept my seams straightened and the dishcloth hung to dry properly, knew this was madness. But that was the boring part, and I could no more listen to that than to the dull ticking of the clock and pretend it was wonderful music as my youth and vitality ebbed away. No, I had to have my life al to myself.
And more than my frustrated passion was the wrong done to my scorned pride. My life had to understand this, above all. I had convinced myself that it was to its benefit to do so, for the good of its soul, to not so cavalierly amuse itself and then dispense with one so full of love as myself.
Without realizing it, I found myself during one of my long walks staring into a shop window, behind which was a display of gleaming pistols…
It’s a good life for sure, but I do find it lacking. I don’t know if I love it so much as I’m fiercely loyal to it, like a disappointing but well-meaning sibling.
Wait, I meant, I have a harem of 40 hot bitches, and am a billionaire. So yes.
Joe