Sometimes, you just have to go with the waves
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Si vous pouviez réinventer quelque chose, de quoi s’agirait-il ? If i could un-invent something, i think i would un-invent those standards that make some humans feel superior or inferior to other humans : It makes no sense that skin tone, or gender, or weight, or criteria that are not that relevant should cause so much
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The concept of eternity is… Terrifying. I don’t even think a human could handle it. Some say they dream about downloading their conscience into a machine to make themselves eternal. But if ever that were possible, whatever would live on in that machine would not be them. It would not be human. Just like your
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Si vous aviez une affiche sur l’autoroute, que dirait-elle ? It would say : « Life is short. Don’t make it shorter. Fasten your seat belt. » Or : « Of course, your friends like you drunk. But alive is even better. » Or : « Mister Sandman is on the way? Rest area six miles away. »
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My family made me, first and foremost, it’s family first, for me. Then, I think seeing psychologists has been tremendously impactful, very stabilizing. They’ve helped me put order in my thinking. Sometimes, you just need somebody to debrief. Meeting a litteral outsider (if you trust them enough) can really help you put things in perspective,
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Apart from my wonderful dad? Terry pratchett would be the man. Here is a quote from his book « Reaper man ». : « In the Ramtop village where they dance the real Morris dance, for example, they believe that no one is finally dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away — until the
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No, it’s not. Because I was not imagining anything, a year ago. I was trying to deal with health issues, and not making plans for the future. I was living a day after the next. Sometimes, you just do. But is anyone’s life how they imagined it? Probably not. Life is not something you can
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I’m a good listener. That’s because I genuinely care. I like people to feel safe around me. And respected. And heard. That doesn’t mean I can handle anything. Sometimes, it is too much. And it’s nobody’s fault. Not mine, not the others. We all do what we can. I think we tend to be so
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Nothing. Am I perfect? No. Would I want to be? Why would i? Who’s perfect? According to whose criteria? And what’s the point of « perfection », anyway? There’s beauty in wrinkles, and uneven skintones, and scars. There’s soul in every little crack in somebody’s voice, soul in other unpredictable traits. I love old family pictures, with
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I’ve seen quite a number of underwhelming wild animals. By wild animals, I mean : untended by man, fending for themselves. Doing their thing in the world however they can. So, I’ve seen : The world is full of wilderness. Wilderness that adapts to wild places being scarce. Wilderness that makes do with us being
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I believe instinct is the sum of one’s experience of the world, of one’s life lessons all synthecised to respond quickly to the moment. So, I would trust my instinct most of the time. When I meet someone, what I perceive of the atmosphere of a place, things like this. But some decisions need thinking.
Sober Bubbles 