e-book Full of Myself

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As a self-employed business owner with irregular income , it isn't so simple. I have a different income every month and no predictable salary. I also have to figure out my own retirement plan, as no employer is there to do it for me. But that doesn't mean I can't save and invest on a regular basis.

It just takes a little more care and planning for your retirement plan to come together. After a brief pause in retirement savings when I quit my old job, I started to look for apps that could handle savings for me. While my employer can't automate my savings, it doesn't mean I don't have options. I eventually decided that fee wasn't worth it and switched to a new plan for my investments with no fees. However, that doesn't mean some fees are not worth it.

Using any of these apps, you can increase your savings rate without much thought or work after the initial setup. They pick your investments based on your user profile and goals and there are no added trading costs. That makes saving for retirement much easier.

Believe in Yourself (And Why Nothing Will Work If You Don't)

I only pay trade commissions and fund fees in this account. Because I would have paid the fund fees anyway and Schwab gives me a big list of funds with no trading fees, I can do better in the long-run managing my account myself. I run my business as an S-Corporation and get a weekly paycheck in addition to "dividend income" for additional profits. My weekly paycheck is automated through a payroll service.

I set up some automatic transfers to match that payday schedule to keep funding my retirement at roughly the same rate I was before. I periodically invest the funds in my own choice of low-fee ETFs so I'll have plenty of assets waiting when I reach retirement. The real or fancied indifference of some man or woman I love,. The sickness of one of my folks or of myself, or ill-doing or loss or lack of money, or depressions or exaltations,. Battles, the horrors of fratricidal war, the fever of doubtful news, the fitful events;. These come to me days and nights and go from me again,.

Apart from the pulling and hauling stands what I am,. Stands amused, complacent, compassionating, idle, unitary,. Looks down, is erect, or bends an arm on an impalpable certain rest,. Looking with side-curved head curious what will come next,. Both in and out of the game and watching and wondering at it. Backward I see in my own days where I sweated through fog with linguists and contenders,. I have no mockings or arguments, I witness and wait. I believe in you my soul, the other I am must not abase itself to you,.

Loafe with me on the grass, loose the stop from your throat,. Not words, not music or rhyme I want, not custom or lecture, not even the best,. I mind how once we lay such a transparent summer morning,. And parted the shirt from my bosom-bone, and plunged your tongue to my bare-stript heart,. Swiftly arose and spread around me the peace and knowledge that pass all the argument of the earth,. And I know that the hand of God is the promise of my own,. And I know that the spirit of God is the brother of my own,.

And that all the men ever born are also my brothers, and the women my sisters and lovers,. And limitless are leaves stiff or drooping in the fields,. And brown ants in the little wells beneath them,. A child said What is the grass?

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How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he. I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven. Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,. A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt,.

How Being Full of Yourself Isn't Selfish

Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of the vegetation. And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones,. And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves. It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men,. It may be if I had known them I would have loved them,.

This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers,. Darker than the colorless beards of old men,. Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths. O I perceive after all so many uttering tongues,. And I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths for nothing. I wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men and women,.

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And the hints about old men and mothers, and the offspring taken soon out of their laps. What do you think has become of the young and old men? And what do you think has become of the women and children? The smallest sprout shows there is really no death,.

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And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it,. All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses,.


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And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier. I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to die, and I know it. And peruse manifold objects, no two alike and every one good,.

AGAINST MYSELF - Odyssey to Reflexion [FULL ALBUM]

The earth good and the stars good, and their adjuncts all good. I am not an earth nor an adjunct of an earth,. I am the mate and companion of people, all just as immortal and fathomless as myself,. They do not know how immortal, but I know. Every kind for itself and its own, for me mine male and female,.

nuematouchsnima.gq For me those that have been boys and that love women,. For me the man that is proud and feels how it stings to be slighted,. For me the sweet-heart and the old maid, for me mothers and the mothers of mothers,. For me lips that have smiled, eyes that have shed tears,. For me children and the begetters of children. I see through the broadcloth and gingham whether or no,. And am around, tenacious, acquisitive, tireless, and cannot be shaken away.