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Written by: Anonymous
Email: [email protected] I recently fell in love with one of my best friends. To be honest, throughout the past two years I’ve on and off had feelings for her. Whenever I started to feel romantic feelings towards her, I’d somehow talk myself out of it. Usually that involved shit-talking her either to myself or to other people that don’t know her that well, and blowing things out of proportion to make her seem worse than she is. A few months ago I finally let myself accept and acknowledge I am in fact in love with her. I really thought it over, journaled about it, made playlists, wrote poetry. Why? Is this just forced proximity? An obsession? Limerence? When I finally got the nerve to open up to another friend about it she said exactly that- you’re just confused you don’t actually love her, it’s just a crush. That just didn’t feel true to me. I have been through a lot with her, and because we are concert buddies we have traveled a lot together and I’ve spent some of the happiest days of my life with her. Sitting across from her at a restaurant, walking along the beach, listening to music with her in the car are also some of my happiest moments. That doesn’t seem like just an obsession. And of course, she is not perfect, I have been friends with her for a long time and know that all too well, and she knows my flaws and setbacks too. I feel bad for lying about what she was like to my other friends for years, just for my own selfish reasons. I told her on New Years Eve, which we were spending together (alone lmao) that I had feelings for her- well- I didn’t actually. I panicked, and told her I used to have feelings for her and love her as a friend. I tried to make it as digestible as possible, because I couldn’t dare tell her the truth, that I can see a life with her, traveling with her, making memories with her, taking care of her for as long as she would want me to. All she said was, “don’t feel bad,” and we dropped the subject. It felt like a rejection- even though it technically wasnt? But i think if she had any feelings for me, wouldn’t she have maybe said something? We were both very drunk at the time, so it wasn’t the most open or productive conversation. I don’t want to bring it up again, as I feel like I’ve already been rejected. There’s still some hope I hold on to that she will want to be with me in the future. I don’t know why, I wish i didnt feel that way. I love her a lot. As a friend, and as more too. I still am not fully convinced I just have a weird crush on her, or I am crazy, or just a loser lesbian. I don't know. I don't know how to feel, and I don't know what to do. When I have talked to my other friends about it, they laugh at me, tell me I'm ridiculous, or tell me that she is not a good person for me. None of my other friends know her that well, and I am super close with her and don't feel like I can fully trust their outlook on her. I know it's stupid to ask, what do I do? But, what do I do lol. © 2025 Anonymous
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Written by: A
Email: [email protected] I've been struggling lately with my gender identity and expression. I'm a lesbian, I identify with the term since I feel like being born a female plays a huge part in the way I'm perceived and these "desires" people expect from me. I have always been gender nonconforming though, I've used plenty of other terms when I was younger (I grew up practically on my phone and I felt as if all these identities and labels were necessary to describe who I was at the time), but now I don't label my gender anymore. It's a very complex thing, going into it makes my head hurt. I've only dated people online when I was younger, who were also trans or a different identity, and two of them ended up being lesbians after years of self discovery. I've been trying to actually find someone in real life that seems right for me, but I have zero hopes in finding someone where I currently live. When I think of being in a romantic relationship with a woman, I feel more feminine, softer? When I'm by myself or with anyone else, I feel these needs of presenting or acting more masculine/androgynous-like. I don't know where I'm going with this, but your video has put a different perspective in my mind, since lately I have been trying to convince myself I am not trans/GNC and that I'm supposed to be a female, I keep forcing myself to dress in certain ways and to stop voice training, and to try to just be a normal female woman so no one is confused. I don't know, I guess I'm tired of the constant questioning (questioning myself and leaving others confused as well), and feeling as if everyone fits into boxes that are easy to understand, and I still am struggling to understand myself. I have DID and that also plays a huge part in my identity or identities. I'm just really, really exhausted of the shame that comes with not fitting in. I have been trying to push it all under the rug and play this version of myself I don't feel comfortable with. I am a lesbian because I do experience romantic and sexual attraction towards women and feminine presenting people, mostly androgynous women, but I haven't seen anyone like that apart from, what? Fictional characters? People on Pinterest? I hope it doesn't sound like I'm projecting these high, unrealistic standards onto people because that is not the case at all. I'm just trying to say that everyone seems to fit into these binary boxes, either feminine or masculine, and everything else feels invisible... fictitious. I prefer androgyny, when it comes to attraction and for myself, but lately I have been feeling so invisible and depressed. That's what's driving me to just suck it up and be the usual female woman everyone is expecting me to be. I used to go by he/him for a good majority of my teen years, since there's not many sets of pronouns that feel right for me, but since last year, I've been convincing myself to get used to she/her or they/them since it's easier for everyone else. I am currently feeling so mixed and... scrambled? when it comes to pronouns. I told my closest friend to use she/her for me (I'm presenting more femininely lately) because deep down I feel guilty for not presenting in a certain way that makes sense. I'm so sorry if this is too much, I don't know who to go to or if there's anyone else that feels this way. I have two cisgender friends in real life, and my closest friends online also fit into these binary boxes, and they're all lovely, please don't get me wrong, I just feel like the odd one out sometimes. It makes me feel extremely guilty and ashamed. A note to the audience would be: can anyone... relate? Is someone going through something similar? I'm not sure what to do or what to say. I feel lost even though the year is going generally well for me. I just want everything to be right and to feel better. Thank you so much for reading this, I haven't really spoken to anyone about this before because again, I feel ashamed to share these things with my close circle since I feel as if they won't relate. I don't want to be some sort of "annoying trans person", constantly demanding things or not being able to fit in with the rest, I hope that makes sense. Thanks a million and I hope I can be heard with this. © 2025 A Written by: Naomi Lockhart
Email: [email protected] Growing up I always tried my best to do good, be good, and make others happy. My happiness? Meh. Not as important. Validation was all I needed… or so I subconsciously thought. I wasn’t always this aware of it but it was something I sought after in everything I did, every person I interacted with. It’s still the case, but to a much lesser degree, and thank goodness for that. Perfectionism and people-pleasing are quite literally a deadly combination. The odds were stacked against me from the start. I wasn’t born to come into my own, I was born to conform and bend to the will of others. I wasn’t born to find enjoyment in life and thrive, I was born to serve and survive. Born to be a “proper” subhuman who never complains about anything or anyone and always forces a smile. Everyone else's comfort is first above my well-being. Nothing made this clearer to me than being told by an old man at church to smile. Little did he know I was suicidal. Maybe if he knew, he wouldn’t have said that. But I doubt that one word from him was all that well-intentioned. It’s not like I was having my picture taken, I was just simply walking past him with a facial expression that reflected the day I was having. There was always someone who had a problem with me. I was either not enough or I was too much. I wasn’t allowed to just exist. I couldn’t just be. I couldn’t just be a kid too, the only option I was given was to grow up fast. Being told how mature I was for my age isn’t the compliment I once thought it was. I always had to be doing things for others. Doing something solely for myself and my own pleasure was considered a waste of time. I am a woman, a lesbian, half-not-white, neurodivergent, with invisible physical disabilities. I was born lower-class and was once a child who had little sense of autonomy. I’m not meant to have a voice. I’m not meant to be heard. I’m not meant to be believed. I’m not meant to be taken seriously. No one in my personal life said these words explicitly, but they didn’t need to. I still got the message loud and clear. In the eyes of a Western patriarchal capitalistic society, I'm no better than dead if I can’t meet certain expectations and uphold the status quo. I’m disposable so long as I keep calling attention to my rights. My existence challenges the very systems, harmful systems, that some people work too damn hard to keep in place. What did I ever do to deserve such vitriol? I do wonder. When I finally started to stand up for myself and set much-needed boundaries, that’s when all hell broke loose. Unfortunately, things got so much worse before they got better. The arguments were amplified. They became more frequent. Civility was nowhere to be found. Screaming, yelling, pleading, crying. Why was everyone and everything so loud? How come when they raised their voices at me and while triggered I raised my voice back, their voices turned down and I was now an unruly maniac? Implode. Implode. Implode. Explode! Repeat. I think imploding is such a common thing girls/women do. Suffer in silence until you just can’t take it anymore and unleash the beast inside you- the beast that has been begging to be freed from the trap it found itself in. How could anyone blame the beast for roaring and groaning as it bleeds away in pain? As if it were asking to be prey?… It feels far from good but the anger has to come out somehow. It’s so easy for people to dismiss our anger, however. Once it’s expressed profoundly, we are deemed hysterical and once hysterical always hysterical it seems. The ancient Greek word for uterus is Hystera - many men think that only women can be hysterical but if anything it’s the opposite. I was often told how selfish I was, that I only cared for myself. This was among the things I feared most and thus one of the last things I wanted to hear. But I wholeheartedly believed in these words, their gut-wrenching words for a while. And hated myself with a passion because of it. I was at my lowest of lows and being told by the people I cared about most of how much of a disappointment I was. Little or big comments they made were like micro or macro stabs to the heart. All I wanted was their love but in turn, they made me believe I was the scum of the earth- because I dare ask for more. How dare I have needs beyond what’s legally required of them to provide. But no, I was supposed to kiss their feet for not letting me die in the streets. Curse me for putting myself first for once in my life. Tragic. But in truth, they were just disappointed they didn’t have constant easy access to me anymore as they’ve only ever appreciated what they could get out of me. I’d go back and forth between giving in and standing my ground even when it hurt. I didn’t have the term for it at the time but reactive abuse I believe is what it’s called. They were good at making me feel like a savage. How could I have turned out like this when, in my earlier years, I was so calm and collected? Sometimes the price you pay for fighting for the right thing is losing your sanity, and your grip on reality until a miracle opportunity comes your way, you set aside your pride and finally rely on someone else for help. That is if such a miracle comes your way. Too many don’t make it to the other side. That hurts to know. I was no longer the prim, proper, and polished person I thought myself to be. Though I’ve never thought I was perfect, I so seriously thought it was something I could achieve. I thought that once I had achieved perfection then they’d finally love me, of course they would, right? Right? People have achieved the impossible before but this? Now this was truly impossible. Even if I hypothetically were perfect, being loved was never a guarantee. Okay so, perfect was completely out of the question but I still wanted to please. I was now rough around the edges and everyone could see it. How I’m not as docile and sweet. How I’m lagging behind others my age. I tried so hard to hide all my flaws and vulnerabilities and now they were front and center. I felt naked, exposed, and ashamed. I couldn't control what they thought of me anymore- not that I ever really could. My reputation had been permanently tainted. How does one go from a high-achieving student to a dropout? Well, certainly not willingly in my case. I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter and yet I was ridiculed for it. I tried my best but I guess it just wasn’t enough. My efforts didn’t matter as I wasn’t pulling in the ideal results. Something must seriously be wrong with me… that or maybe I was never meant to follow a traditional life path. If I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t I might as well do things that genuinely spark joy in me. Otherwise, what’s the point of living my life if I can’t live it for myself? Even just a little bit. I am not fond of most of my memories. There’s something about standing up for yourself and fighting for your right to be recognized as a full-fledged human being that can be so humiliating. But I am proud that I fought for my personhood in the end. That I stood up for myself when no one else did. I am not without scars but at least I’m still around and have finally gotten a taste of happiness. Not superficial joviality but authentic happiness from slowing down and taking in the small beautiful things that are often taken for granted. Happiness that isn’t as fleeting as it once was. Happiness where I just can’t seem to stop smiling and my face hurts and I’m unashamedly laughing to the point where I start having coughing fits and my chest hurts and even that’s funny! A little concerning yes, but funny! I’m humming all the time too. I don’t have to be so quiet anymore. I didn’t think I’d get this far. I live at my own pace and pursue my passions. I am my own boss now. And how lucky I am for that. I still struggle with many things but I can better handle what life throws at me. There are people out there who believe I’m less than human or would treat me as such but the good thing is, I don’t have to spend the rest of my life believing it too. For me, it’s easier to be nice to others than to be nice to myself but I see just how important self-love and respect is. When I’m around others and I start to feel inferior, I’m able to notice it sooner and I try to be more gentle with myself. I owe that to myself. And I am not above or below anyone. Some of the "flaws" that certain people think are okay to degrade me over are not even flaws to begin with. I refuse to believe they are. Like my lesbianism. In contemporary Filipino culture, it’s as if you can make up for your homosexuality by becoming rich enough and/or famous and not bringing attention to your sexuality too much. I am not rich or famous but my sexuality? It is a beautiful thing! Love is a beautiful thing in all its forms and I will continue to embrace it for as long as I live for happy is only the soul that loves. As for my real flaws, I am working on them. But I am not a letter, I am not a number, I am not a puppet, I am not a robot, I am not a product. I am not a means, I am an end. I am a person and I don’t need anyone’s permission to be imperfect. © 2025 Naomi Lockhart Written by: Meagan Sponseller
All too often we make love out to be something it isn’t. Painful, destructive, disappointing, and altogether frustrating. Complicated. Hard. This is not Love at all. This is not how it should be and we can feel it deep within our souls. Embedded in our consciousness. We know this is not Love. We know there is so much more. In our times, we have lost simplicity. How simple anything can be if we just let it be without the desire to change it? Without the desire to mold it into what it is not. We wouldn’t approach an artist’s statue and try to change it, why would we try to change the nature of Love? Love is understanding and acceptance. Love is, always has been, and always will be simple. You see, Love is so much more than grand gestures. It’s more than money spent, agreements or disagreements, or the sharing of space. It has never been what they post about you on social media or how often they text you. If that were the case, people would have never loved before technology advanced. I stress again, Love is simple. Love is them telling you to sleep because you’re tired. It’s them making sure you’ve made it home. It’s a simple “be safe” before you leave. It’s hand-written letters ranging from a single word to a never ending stream of hellos. It’s showing you their favorite song. It’s questions and answers. It’s shared coffee, shared memories, and shared laughter. It’s wiping away tears. Love is a place, an object, or a photo that reminds them of you. It’s investing in them and their passions, their work, and their dreams. It’s building them up and being their biggest fan. It’s their voice and the way they say your name. Love is the sharing of knowledge. It’s acknowledging their mistakes without criticizing. It’s them teaching you it’s okay, in fact it’s beneficial, to love yourself. It’s their patience and understanding of your nature. It’s accepting what society deems as their flaws simply as what they are. Them. It’s simple compliments and intricate shared details of their mind. It’s their eyes and smile. It’s butterflies and blushes. It’s them calling to wake you up because they miss you. It’s knowing they exist. It’s the act of caring in all of its fine forms. It’s inexplicable emotion. It’s effort. It’s simplicity at its finest. Perhaps not so simple in each individual aspect, but still. Love is simple all together. © 2024 Meagan Sponseller Written by: Meagan Sponseller
When you see my scars, will I still look the same? Not just the scars on my arms, but the permanent indents left on my psyche. The scars caused by neglect, abandonment, pain, and abuse. Does telling you of my past make your abandonment more likely? When I pull away and have moments I can’t stand to be touched, will I be someone you can no longer use? How can I be of benefit to you? Do I have to stand by entirely mute? Would you like a show where I focus solely on you? Where I place myself on the back burner like I’m told to do? Where I dim my light to help yours shine? No thank you. Not this time. I had to repair what I didn’t break. My heart, my soul, my mind. The scars etched in my skin and soul are my form of Kintsugi. I did the best I could with what I had at the time. I am not responsible for the damage, just the reparations made. I’m not sorry if the way I survived doesn’t look how you think it should have. I’m not sorry if the endings I chose don’t align with your ideal life. And before you say that I’m damaged, know that I’m not. “Damaged” would insinuate that there is a specific way I should be. I’m not made to fit your definition of perfect. However, if knowing of my past makes you walk away because you think I’m damaged, then perhaps you are far more tarnished than I am. My past made me kinder, patient, understanding, generous, and less judgmental but somehow MY past makes people walk away. I don’t tell people my story to make them carry it, I tell them to give them the opportunity to understand. If my vulnerability and knowing me is such a burden, I’m glad that you won’t accept the privilege of loving me. © 2024 Meagan Sponseller Author: Regee Yalyk Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@RegeeYalyk Email: [email protected] if It was once, not long ago, I found myself staring at my image in the mirror of my mind. The reflection was a "me" that was not me. It was the me which found himself separated by a mere single neuron in the corpus collosum. I was speaking to myself; my other self. I found that the active me which was always in control was actually the left brain - the one which controls the right side of my body. I could not discount the experience. The other me speaking back (yes I did have a conversation, one lasting several days despite my attempts to end it), told me that I was actually both him and me. I was both of us at the same time. I managed to cognitively reconcile this by absorbing the absolute meaning of what a "self" is by defining the two "me" as a single one "me". But I could not ignore the idea that I was never at any point the left side of my body - how could I not be? But then, I was provided what I can only consider to be undeniable proof - I was given a task to attempt to stabilize my thumbs. Think of it - just hold my two thumbs together at the same time facing each other; like two wild dogs having a staredown and who would budge first. Wouldn't you know it my right hand moved first. The one I was in control of (according to this other me) was the one that budged. I was shocked. How could my own nerves betray me? Let alone the fact that I am both of my thumbs right? Well, apparently not. I was given a vision that night, not more than two or three hours following this experiment. Once I stablized my thumbs experiment and managed to actually let the right brain control everything, I sat back and watched a parade of closed eye visuals stream by - like I was dreaming but not. I was being shown something that my right brain had been holding back for years, likely all my life - or at least since I was able to begin planning and not willfully creating. In my case, the left brain was the logical and planning agent, while the right brain was and still is the creative force behind my actions. So what does this mean? I spent three days or so talking with it - absorbing what this me was saying. I learned how each of my various body functions and systems were interconnected. I learned and began applying what the logic side had learned about brain hemispheres and the chakras, and all the who'dv'e-said-it spiritual and other types of new age sciences over the years. None of it had ever connected with me the way that I'd seen it then. The masculine and feminine sides were revealed at the end of the session, with a grandmaster crown chakra eventually being deemed the controlling agent - formed primarily by the forces of the universe; what Carl Sagan might call "star stuff"- what others might call God; yet more what others might call Nirvana or the Universe or the one. I have never been fully engaged in or with any serious devout religions; I consider myself a student of them all and a master of none of them. While I may understand the principles of the Jainist monk who starves themselves and the intentions of yet still others who perform miracles with healing, I've never really 'known' what those are. I can not - but I can understand them in principle. What I've been given in my life, provided my background and the achievements I've made which will follow me to my grave - none of that compares in scale or scope to the rush of perfect existence I experienced that night. It is September 29 2023 as I write this, and that experience was about 5 months ago, back on Apr 28, 2023 - nearly to the day. Since then, I've had some kind of veil lifted on the world around me. I've seen how things work in a way that I can only describe as necessarily urgent to convey to the world. I am of the understanding that I am not some important figure in the world - that my ability to actually use and tap into my creative brain (right) just as easily as I use my left (now) is not a unique or special feature about me. But I do think I have some advantage in the way I am able to grasp on to these concepts and summarize them in a familiar and tangible way for others to see. I've been called a great teacher all my life, and I have this strange innate ability to pick up on others' gaps when I am teaching them things. It can be work or other - so in that process of training myself to be better at it I have gained a simple yet powerful ability to "see" when things will and will not be learned by others. I have figured out how to tell when someone will eventually understand what needs to be learned and I can also see very quickly and easily what references can be said to denote to the person that will connect the dots for them. In your case, Niki, I was searching a relatively simple idea on YouTube about the ethics of choices - basically what is the point of a choice and how do good and evil lay their marks on them. I have always been of the belief that choices (aka decisions) are the morally responsible elements when actions are taken. It's not the actions per se that are good or bad - just the choice to do them. In effect, the summary statement is that good and bad decisions frame and forge the outcomes which we eventually see in the world. We see bad in the world as a result of bad decisions - of course the actions are a root cause directly, but it was actually the choice that propted the action. In this way, it is not ultimately any actions which are causal but the thoughts and ideas that perpetuate them. What I see in the world is a series of poor decisions that lead to bad outcomes. I was so engaged with your content while it was presented that I could only hear a voice in my head screaming "yes, this is you! these are your words!" while at the same time hearing the divergent arguments about morality and good and evil. Yet still while this does answer some basic questions about classifying choices and decisions outright, it does not ultimately lend aid towards containing decisions in a specific bucket. Is getting a coffee at a Starbucks to finish writing this a good idea? What if I finished it without going to the Starbucks? What if I went to the Starbucks and didn't finish it? The implications and possible permutations are effectually inifinite - and infinite is something I understand meaningfully and purposefully well. I spoke one sentence about something I did which I will take to my grave, and while I will not now reveal it, I can say that infinity was a generous portion of it. I know what infinite formations of fractals look like - how they reverberate through the cosmos and beyond; how they reveal themselves in the neurons during special MRI exams; how broccoli and plants look like them; how people around the world congregate and flush through crowded spaces; how the swirl of milk in a coffee only ever happens exactly that way once; how writing a summary statement of my understanding of the universe and world at large is but a peg in the cog of a machine designed to produce more of those exact conditions... ...how the second-person hallucination I experienced was but a moment in time designed so that I can only ever know it once. That day changed my life. I use that phrase to emphasize the meaning it has for me - in reality every day changes my life. But I digress. Prior to those days of delusion, I was somehow always pessimistic and left for naught; I was under the impression that the greatest thing I'd ever achieve was already done and that my greatest life's work would never be attributed to me (this was and still is my wish for it, mind you). I use the word designed here not to imply that there is some great hand at work - as you will see this is the 'me' in that scenario which has taken on the representative role of that 'entity' which designs. It is easiest to speak on these things by ascribing some human-like attributes; but the reality of the circumstance is that this is not at all the case. I have a bit of conspiratorial insight to share, in that it is possible my behavior and revelations were somehow manipulated. Like Descarte, I must consider that I am actually only my thoughts. But as such, even if the mastermind behind the veil of this universe has tricked me into believing in something more; something bigger than me; I can only conclude that whether or not it is true that it is at least a part of me or that I am a part of it - or that both are one in the same. And that was my conclusion: it is all the same. Everything is the same. Carl Sagen's "star stuff" was essentially correct - though star is a bit limiting. Space and everything in it. The universe and everything in it. But what about the small things? How do we fold in the fabric of the atomic world into this understanding? Surely a particle in two places at once can't possibly be considered in this conceptual understanding of the world and reality, right? Well - I would argue completely and exactly the opposite. A lot of mainstream media and depictions of science have made jest with the idea that the small is actually just the big, but small. But I love Occam's Razor for this one - I mean, think of it: they are the same. It's a beautifully elegant and simple solution and explanation. How then do we reconcile this? What if this was already found and discovered, possibly negated? There are phrases out there: "As above, so below", and so on. I am partial to these, personally. My reticular activating system is just wired different I guess. tl;dr : the universe is cool © 2023 Regee Yalyk.. All Rights Reserved. Author(s): Fabian Ermisch & Niki Christine Author's Note: This exchange began with a comment on a philosophy video discussing the concepts of freedom, choice, and fate in a realistic world- and has since turned into an insightful conversation regarding the experience of existence, logic, and happiness- that I am very thankful to have been a part of. Though not a typical submission style, it was the preferred style by Fabian. To give a bit of context before starting: the video discusses the emotional difficulties/anxieties that come with being constantly aware of your freedom while also being aware of how little freedom you actually have, because of the external world and systems in place which limit it. Also, the video that started this conversation is called “it’s normal to be afraid of being alive sometimes - A Philosophy of Freedom, Choice, and Fate,” if you’re interested in watching! I hope you enjoy getting to eavesdrop a bit, and if you have any thoughts of your own on these topics, please feel free to submit them and continue the conversation! Fabian: After working out, I feel cleansed in a sense. I feel like I'm in a state I always should be in, yet I'm not. It's like it's easy to change the state but difficult to change the mechanism which gets you in that state. I feel like we can only truly change - change the mechanism - if we can look at ourselves from another perspective. Like, detaching. From my experience, this only happened in more intense life situations. For me one of these was experienced with psychedelics. Also, something like holidays and exploring new things can give you this new perspective. The difficult thing is to get there, I think like you kind of said, because you need the necessities like money which seems to only tighten the chains which keeps us limited. In this way, we run the danger of getting stuck, maybe for longer times. However, this feeling can pent up and free us again, like an equation which zeroes out.. at least that's my experience. Niki: I really like the point you made, “it’s easy to change the state but difficult to change the mechanism which gets you in that state.” I think that’s an interesting, and great point. Detachment, as well, is a great thing to bring up. You mention working out, and it makes me think about the meditative states we can enter during things like exercise or meditation itself- and to detach is to not be overcome with external influence. Even though there are things outside of us that can keep us from reaching that mental state of detachment, I agree with your idea that experiencing and doing things that can give you more/new perspectives is helpful. While we cannot escape the influence and noise of the outside world, we can try and find some sense of escape through ourselves. Fabian: You know what, I really like that point myself :P. I feel like I knew it all along, but just thanks to your video, I got reminded about it. But isn't this interesting? In this case, you could express something which I couldn't, but this made me express something which maybe you couldn't. Maybe it's like we all are - or hold - a piece/pieces of a puzzle. And at the end of our life, we probably think we got the full picture, even though it's just a small part of the whole. Or do we really know it all ourselves and just need some reminders here and there? Or some input, as to how to express it? And "all" would imply that we can have unlimited perspectives just from within. And like you mentioned, get access with those meditative states by quieting the external noise. Well, as I'm writing it, both make sense - or am I contradicting myself? I would like to hear what you think about this, maybe it'll cause a "ripple effect" like before. Niki: This ripple effect is interesting, and I think it is part of what makes conversations such as these so meaningful- the opportunity to hear others put into words something you’ve been trying to, and hopefully getting to do that for someone else, too. I think that is the case here! I think those are all valid questions, and I think part of philosophy is accepting the inevitable contradictions and inconsistencies that come with being human. I think it might be a combination of both. I think it is impossible to know “all,” but I think we know- without even realizing- so much more than we could imagine. To that, I think it is the little reminders and new perspective that we can find, such as through conversations like these, that makes us remember something we had always known, we just didn’t have a reason to know it- yet. I am not sure that makes sense entirely, but I am hoping it does in some ways or another? Telepathy would certainly be useful but I think a lot of what makes a conversation interesting is the process of trying to work-out and understand someone else’s words! Fabian: I feel what you say - we as humans are flawed and can't really grasp what's really going on. Or logic probably isn't universal - I feel like our ways of thinking are merely a subset of a universal logic (if there even is such a thing). That would explain why we struggle to explain/express some things (because we never will, but even so, the process is interesting). But to connect this to what you said next - there is beauty in being a flawed human being. (so many "beings") Trying to understand someone else is indeed a very interesting process. Like, we have our preconceptions of what they think and feel but that's very limited, because it's based on our own thoughts and feelings of course. But if we succeed in doing this, we feel this sense of oneness and connection. Like "well, this person is just like me, we just express it differently.” I mean, we are all similar and want similar things. I think it's very important to remind yourself about this, because especially in this day and age I feel like we are more disconnected than ever - even though it should be the opposite (well, this is a topic for itself). But it is indeed the process which makes things interesting. Like, winning a million dollars probably wouldn't make you really happy because there is no struggle in this. Or cheating in a video game. But do we always have to struggle to get something which makes us happy? I think that's also an interesting thought, because if we are born into a happy family we don't have to struggle but we feel happy. Or do we then become spoiled which leads us to struggle in the long run - like, the price we pay. I mean, of course it's not as simple as this, I'd like to hear your thoughts about this. And about knowing "all". I agree and disagree with you at the same time. (and what you are saying makes sense to me by the way). The question is, what it means to "know all". If we say experiencing everything directly I tend to agree. But I also had this thought once, that our current experience is like the sum of all other experiences out there. Like, everything combined equals you. Well, I know, it's a bit out there but this is yet another thing to think about. Niki: I think the idea of universal logic is really interesting. As we communicate with others, there are a lot of moments that I think can show tiny bits of this showing through- though I do not think there is a complete universal logic that is accessible or completely applicable to humanity. For example, there might be a universal logic to describe the nature of a universe itself- a science that is continuously being developed through studies, such as physics. However, a universal, internal human conceptualized logic seems unrealistic, considering the immense subjectivity of our thoughts, feelings, and experiences. I think you touched on this by mentioning the way we have our own preconceptions, based on our own experiences, that we will project onto other people and the things they tell us- therefore we do not always see them clearly or understand completely. However, I agree with you. Despite this, we find undeniable similarity within each other- but the world is becoming a more and more disconnected place in terms of physical, in person connection, so this might be a dying experience. As for the potential need for struggle to truly be happy, I think struggle is both necessary and unnecessary to achieve a state of happiness. When we experience something horrible, and we know pain, it allows us to truly know happiness- because we know its opposite. However, even if a person never experienced any struggle, the natural human ability to experience emotions would not be erased, and happiness would still be possible- I think it would be less appreciated, however, and a person like this would not know the term to describe what they are feeling, because they know nothing else. Fabian: This conversation brought up something really interesting: the dualistic nature which our world seems to have. Like, dark and light, bad and good, etc. We can appreciate the one more, only if we know the other. But even so, like you said, it's not impossible to feel happiness for example without the struggle. But if that is true, would there really be a need for gratitude by knowing how things could be otherwise? Or is it gratitude itself which makes us happy? I think that's interesting, because I really feel like gratitude is like a cheat code. Anytime we can choose to be grateful for something and we'll instantly feel better. About universal logic, I think I agree with you. If we think about universal logic like a spirit which possesses everything there is - through this act of possession it gets tainted by that being which is also disconnected from the rest. But the funny thing about writing this is that we write this with our human logic. So yeah we'll probably never really know - still, like you, I also feel like we get tiny bits of it showing through from time to time. Also, it now seems to me as though we are talking about god. Niki: Gratitude is an interesting concept to bring up. To be happy is nice, but to truly be grateful that you are happy is almost like doubling the good feelings. For some reason the scenario coming to my head about this is someone, a generally happy person, dropping their ice cream- and they're still happy, but when they get another one, they’re even happier because this one didn’t end up splattered all over the ground. Sort of like, the good things- no matter how small they are- are even better when you can appreciate it. The idea of gratitude being a cheat code is something I would never have considered. But I think there is something to be said for the way our mood can improve with just a perspective switch- kinda like having a shitty day but being grateful for the fact you're alive at all, even if it currently feels shitty to be. Changing the way you think about the day, even if it's hard sometimes, can bring on some happiness that you can’t find otherwise. © 2023 The Interventionalists. All Rights Reserved. Author: Allyssa Irene Salcedo Email: [email protected] Author's Note: This little piece has been written many times at many different times in my life and has stayed hidden right where I like her, in a word doc that i open like once every few months. But she is done and I love it, so I figured...who better to send it to than a special little lady I know... I hate my body but I love my soul. What a heavy thought for a little girl. I could say that I love my body once I lose ten pounds then twenty pounds when I fit into a size 12 when I go from an XXL to a Large or Medium. I could say that I love my body once I feel comfortable to swim in anything other than baggy shorts and a t-shirt workout on an empty stomach five times a week avoid carbs, sugar, gluten, dairy, and red meat like the plague. I could only say that I love my body when I was doing everything to change it It seemed I could only say that I loved my body when all I felt inside was hatred towards it. Why did I hate my body? Shouldn’t I hate it on principle that it has fat and stretchmarks? Shouldn’t I hate it that it jiggles in places I wished it were still? Shouldn’t I hate it that I was never taught to love myself as I am? What a twisted way of thinking. Why don’t I love my body? Why don’t I do everything out of love to her? Why can’t I love my body? I love my body, but I feel so badly about it. No, that is not love. I love my body, but I only wear clothes that cover it up. No, that is not love. I love my body, but I am constantly plagued with thoughts of how I “need” to change it. No, that is not love. God, I hate that I always include “but.” I love my body… stop there, do not follow it up with a “but” or “if.” I love my body, I love my body as it is and I love my body as I should have always loved my body. © 2023 Allyssa Salcedo. All Rights Reserved. |
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