I asked the universe to show me humility gently.
I think existential dread is one way to go about it. Not the only one but…One.
I think the problem is when I try to tell others what to do with their lives. The sheer ridiculousness of that makes the paradox implode into itself.
This is me, and my life. A story to be written by me for me. A script perhaps, a movie, a play, or something else entirely, something I don’t yet understand as life is not that, if not one big question mark after another. Is this the scenario, the plot, the twist, the script?
I cannot create over free will but I can create with it, so i am here, in my creation, waiting to see who will come out to play with me.
Let us be gods and goddesses together.
Me gusta cuando estoy en el campo
en el desierto se piensa mejor
sera por eso que ahi escogio morir el principito
All my love,