BloGreatly

Attention. I’m unveiling the existential mystery of existence to the general public. Life is not a sovereign entity. It’s not governed by a fixed will, nor does it impose itself on you with unchangeable force. Life is clay—obedient, neutral, and infinitely moldable. And the sculptor? That’s you. Me. Them. Everyone. Life becomes whatever we shape it to be.

On a glorious summer day, I was driving, lost in thoughts about my own complexes—clearly intending to sort them out. I’ve noticed more than once: as soon as I wish for something and relax, continuing to live as I always have, magically everything comes true.

In the process of searching for oneself and pushing through the dense forest of the mind’s, […]

Many of us define happiness differently. For some, it ends at the attainment of money, fame, or power. And perhaps, in those simple satisfactions, they feel they’ve reached the end of their search. If human beings didn’t evolve, I could say, “Thank God.”

If we accept as an axiom that the surrounding reality is a product of consciousness and perception — and that the conscious (aware) part is unconditional — then for anything to fully become “real,” it must first be perceived, recognized.

You wander through the world, touching other people. Sometimes it hurts. Sometimes it’s hot. Sometimes it’s cold. Sometimes it’s warm and gentle. Sometimes it even feels like forever. But time passes, and you’re on the move again.

The person who walks toward themselves—who does everything possible to stay true to who they really are—is worthy of respect by definition. That journey is anything but easy. It’s rarely appreciated by others. The deeper one grows, the more they cultivate spiritual sincerity and purity, the harder it becomes to function in the conventional world.

I once envisioned the inner landscape of depression — and other bottoms of the human experience — as a kind of hell. But not the fiery torment from religious stories. It’s quieter, heavier. A space where negative thoughts, fear, doubt, and uncertainty reign.

I recently picked up a book left behind by someone titled What is Your “Dangerous” Idea? This book contains a collection of short and ultra-short essays by individuals with titles such as scientists, professors, and authors of academic books.

I am a unique specimen. Well, wait, I’ve heard this somewhere before. I’ve said it. Thought it. With pomp. Eyes closed. Brows raised in a Pierrot style. Suddenly, it seemed to me by chance that everything was not turning out the way it should for me to be happy.