
“Oh my God, what if you wake up someday, and you’re 65, or 75, 85, and you never got your memoir or novel written; or you didn’t go swimming in warm pools and oceans all those years because your thighs were jiggly and you had a nice big comfortable tummy; or you were just so strung out on perfectionism and people-pleasing that you forgot to have a big juicy creative life, of imagination and radical silliness and staring off into space like when you were a kid?
It’s going to break your heart. Don’t let this happen.” ๐ค
I will still love you when your 105 . ๐ค
And whiskers down to the ground ๐

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