pain is inevitable, suffering is optional

I think everyone constructs a personal narrative that lacks aspects that might destroy their self-image. Some are more aware of this tendency than others, but everyone engages in it to some degree. Even if you’re conscious of this habit — what can you do about it? Merely stating that you’re aware doesn’t necessarily change anything.

We live in a capitalist system, and even when we desire to escape it, we can’t easily do so without abandoning our current way of life. What meaningful difference does it make to attempt living “sustainably” or “locally” if we still rely on globally produced technology? I could stop consuming coffee, tobacco, or even salt, but if I still have an iPhone in my pocket and a MacBook on my table, aren’t I participating in systems that cause significant harm? These devices cannot currently be produced locally, and aren’t they sources of major ethical concerns?

Is a future without constant connectivity possible or desirable? Do I really need instant access to global information when my primary concerns could be more localized — such as current season crops, ensuring sufficient food for winter, maintaining community relationships, or managing local resources?

If we accept that we can’t be 100% ethical consumers in our current system, does it matter how much each of us does to reduce harm without completely eliminating it? One could retreat into solitude to find personal enlightenment, but alternatively, one could work to help others become more aware and make incremental positive changes.

universe wants to express itself through us, we just have to be open to it

pain is a window to your body

pain is a tool

this older lady behind the counter sincerely thanked me for not yelling at her when she couldn’t figure out how to handle my request. it brought tears to my eyes — is that the default? just yell at others? sad.

we traded friendships for contacts, communities for networks.

fuck LinkedIn. it makes me sick to see their profiles with their stupid little buttoned-up profile pictures, bragging about how they were good boys making money for the big man.

it pisses me off even more because, despite wanting to throw up at this, there’s still a little part of me that says — should you be a good boy yourself? make some money for them so you can, idk, have a place to live and food to eat. and if you’re good, you might even get a week off to try living for a change. nice.

fuck this shit. is there no other way?

what do you wanna be when you grow up — the exploited or the exploiter?

i can feel your heartbeat while you’re kissing someone else…

sometimes i wake up from a dream i hardly remember, but i’m sure you were there. my memory often takes me back to those days that were not special in any particular way. but those were the best, the ones we remember the least. there are some things i will never understand, but i need to find peace with knowing so. how does one fall out of love? was it never there, and it just takes time to realize? i am slowly forgetting the names of places we used to go. not only the names, but the places themselves. is life like this? your attention creates a world with firm boundaries, so you can’t see anything else, but once you put your attention elsewhere, the previous world starts to vanish?

people don’t want what’s healthy; they want what’s familiar

sorrow-suckin’ forehead kiss