Life is just a series of tiny moments. Unique little, fleeting “nows”… that happen in the moment, before we realise it happened. At an attempt to understand the now, to determine what the now even is, takes us away from it, and to a new experience. A new now, spent on analysing a now that has already passed. For to spend time analysing the moment, you cannot be in it.
What would be the mature option? To accept continuous burden in silence; to live with worry about the future, regret
Isn’t it so interesting, that of the people we are kind to; often ourselves is not one of them? How
If you’re struggling to think of what to say, perhaps you should listen more. In a world of noise and
If you think you are irreparably hurt; remember that at some point, you have lied to your mother. You have
What are you worth? …
This topic was brought about by a conversation I had with some close friends, where I proposed them the following scenario with a single question;