< Notes...

I get the automated message from Kim. The same I get each week day morning: “Good morning ❤️! ☕ please 🙏🏻” I know it’s 07:30. Next I know, and I kid you not, I get the second reminder tone about the same message. Two minutes have passed by. What’s going on?! I felt I just blinked, and two minutes passed. Something’s broken.

The most precious and valuable thing one can have is good health. Everything depends on it, nothing else truly matters. It might sound like an extreme, but if you don’t believe me now one day you will.

This, from the Punkist, summarises how we—humankind—are no different at all, in the various stages of what’s considered, more or less, modern times. I slightly formatted it for legibility.

We are definitely different from the bad people in history.

The immoral fools tricked by Hitler into saluting the iron cross and casting their votes in favour of genocide, the spiritually corrupt slave traders of the colonies in Africa, the Europeans pillaging and raping (culturally and literally) the indigenous people of the “new worlds” of America, Australia, etc; the brilliant geniuses talked into developing the atom bomb, the monsters who then dropped those bombs over Japan in the name of peace.

We are definitely different from them.

The most efficient systematic slaughter of sentient beings the planet has ever seen, the complete indifference to the ecocide required for our day-to-day lives, the endless belief in infinite growth on a finite planet, the quantification of all that is sacred into mere resources and business opportunities, the utter carelessness toward the world our children will inherit. All this we manage to stand for in the name of progress and humankind’s superiority over all others.

No, we are definitely different.

We are worse.

After finding a font I liked online today, and checking which one was it, and downloading it, and saving it to my “fonts” directory all neatly organised with the rest of them—which is something I often do—I had an existential thought. “Why am I doing this?” Will anyone “inheriting” my collection care about them like I did?

I often find myself second guessing what I do, or a direction/decision I am heading/taking by simply going over and over my thoughts on the meaning of life. Latent depression?

Everything in life can be a waste of time. Waste of time is a philosophical expression.

Feeling disappointed at my fellow human beings. Not all, of course. Though obvious, it is worth noting. And so, I will postpone going to sleep until I feel a bit better, or that melatonin I just took kicks in.

Precisely how I feel without the cursing. If I want to play, stare at the clouds, walk around and smell flowers (or whatever!); there is never time wasted. It is my time. I will pick how to use it.

If everything were to happen the way you want it, wouldn’t it be boring? It would be nice, though, if it happened at least once…