Today is my day of feeling, or in the words of Edward deBono, a day for red hat thinking. Who cares if you’re a guy or a girl, you’re still way different from a monkey or a dolphin, in the sense that you can feel. So might as well make good this liberty, than feel obliged to follow gender rules set about by society, and indeed, self
Sometimes I write well, most of the times, it’s not when I want to do so. Occasionally, it’s when people want me to, but it usually is a function of the environment and my mental state (which might be the same thing). Sometimes, I surprise myself with the words that exit my mouth, or manifest through a systematic movement of my fingers. Sometimes, I pride myself at conducting my own symphony, with my mind being the baton, and my fingers the orchestra.
Without getting too technical now, I’d like to reveal in this moment of partial liberty, that it is indeed a great feeling to release your feelings, and “be true to self”. Whether it’s the correct thing to do is of academic interest, at least for these few brief moments. It’s a liberty I don't often allow myself, often equating it to sinful indulgence. Isn't it remarkable how people ordinarily are looking at opportunities to bury their true, feeling selves in the hope of achieving equanimity, hopefully for greater success ahead? But history shows us, and so does the news, that the ones who go the furthest ahead, are the ones who think from their heart. Who go with their hunches and live their dreams, instead of looking for opportunities in where people would enable them to live their own dreams. It’s hilarious and ironic at the same time, how people look for opportunities to execute their dreams in particular, and happiness in general from their external world, when, in the process, they’re only, if successful, unleashing the power of dreaming and feeling happy in their own selves. Take a person's looks for example, or the notion of love, both of which are deeply rooted in the social revolution that has been carried out chronologically by night clubs, cafes, the telephone and now Facebook.
(At this point, I lost interest writing and started chatting instead, hence confirming and conforming to the social revolution, which might have taken away people's ability to think with their hearts and write with their minds, for purposes other than seeking approval from arbitrarily determined human references.)
Sometimes I write well, most of the times, it’s not when I want to do so. Occasionally, it’s when people want me to, but it usually is a function of the environment and my mental state (which might be the same thing). Sometimes, I surprise myself with the words that exit my mouth, or manifest through a systematic movement of my fingers. Sometimes, I pride myself at conducting my own symphony, with my mind being the baton, and my fingers the orchestra.
Without getting too technical now, I’d like to reveal in this moment of partial liberty, that it is indeed a great feeling to release your feelings, and “be true to self”. Whether it’s the correct thing to do is of academic interest, at least for these few brief moments. It’s a liberty I don't often allow myself, often equating it to sinful indulgence. Isn't it remarkable how people ordinarily are looking at opportunities to bury their true, feeling selves in the hope of achieving equanimity, hopefully for greater success ahead? But history shows us, and so does the news, that the ones who go the furthest ahead, are the ones who think from their heart. Who go with their hunches and live their dreams, instead of looking for opportunities in where people would enable them to live their own dreams. It’s hilarious and ironic at the same time, how people look for opportunities to execute their dreams in particular, and happiness in general from their external world, when, in the process, they’re only, if successful, unleashing the power of dreaming and feeling happy in their own selves. Take a person's looks for example, or the notion of love, both of which are deeply rooted in the social revolution that has been carried out chronologically by night clubs, cafes, the telephone and now Facebook.
(At this point, I lost interest writing and started chatting instead, hence confirming and conforming to the social revolution, which might have taken away people's ability to think with their hearts and write with their minds, for purposes other than seeking approval from arbitrarily determined human references.)
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