Sometimes I want to write things that can't work as a blog post, I don't want to lose amid Twitter, or don't make any sense. For all these streams of conscious, I have my Notes. They have lots of colors to match how across the board they can get.
Keep scrolling to read my notes in order. Or surprise yourself with a random note.
I respect the leaves that, even now, are clinging to their trees.
Imagine you're one of those leaves. A deep, hopeless chill is falling over the land. Over many weeks you've seen most of your friends fall to their deaths. Your strength is slowly fading as the forces of nature pull you towards a mass grave. You look down at this mass grave each day as a reminder of your unavoidable fate of death.
Yet still, you cling to the tree. You know you can't beat nature, but you choose to spite it a moment longer. Now that is perseverance.
One of the biggest things keeping me going through the pandemic is the Libby app. I can get free eBooks about epic wizard sagas and dysfunctional space cadets without risking death or, even worse, awkward social interactions.
The best things in life are free. The better best things in life are free but get returned after two weeks.
Taking action to help others is one thing.
Taking action because of other's expectations, real or imagined, is another thing.
An otter politician arguing to put littering parents in jail with their own filthy water to drink and bathe in is one more thing.
The first thing is good, and the second thing is bad. The second thing can sometimes be in charge, but it'll convince someone's mind the first one is and make that person miserable. The first thing is the one that should always come before the second thing, and not let the second thing sneak ahead.
The third has nothing to do with the other two, but I find it amusing.
One of my favorite theories is when we dream, we're not only seeing things from our subconscious mind. Instead, we're seeing bits and pieces from everyone's subconscious minds mixed in. But we never know exactly which parts of the dream are ours and which are someone else's.
I got this from the idea of a collective unconsciousness. There are thoughts shared by almost every human, like instinctual and archetypal thoughts. I like to stretch it further and think of it as a giant current of thoughts flowing in the surrounding air. Most of our everyday thoughts get drowned out by dominant ideas, like a drop of water in the ocean. But sometimes our thoughts survive and drift further into the collective unconscious. If we're lucky, they're picked up by people as they sleep and appear in their dreams.
I know this likely isn't true. But I like to believe we have those surprise glimpses into the minds of those around us. Even if we'll never know the full context behind it all, it helps us build more empathy one step at a time.
America is still counting the votes, but it's a close race.
America is having a tough time deciding if they want to give a man, whose pandemic response killed over 200,000 people and will likely kill at least 200,000 more, a second chance. You know, that guy whose poor handling shattered economic livelihoods and regular life across the country while other countries have beaten it.
That guy. He's the one who was also...
- Impeached for inviting foreign interference in the election.
- Bragged about sexually assaulting women.
- Had his personal lawyer and fixer sent to prison for paying to silence a porn star the President had an affair with. While he was married.
- Had his charitable foundation shut down for misusing funds donated for charitable purposes.
- Many, many other things.
The country is having a hard time deciding if they want to give him a second chance.
Biden winning won't make any of that go away.
There are lots of good reasons not to commit murder: morality, prison time, emotional trauma, being out of dishtowels for cleaning, or you're about to do it but notice a stuffed animal staring at you and are worried what it may be thinking. These are all equally valid reasons to avoid ending someone's life.
But I think the best disincentive many people now have is this: they've killed people while playing Among Us and know how stressful murder is.
Here's a scenario that's likely happening across the world: someone was planning to murder someone. But after playing a few Among Us rounds as the imposter, they thought, "this is so stressful! I can't handle this in real life." So they packed up their knives, put the disinfectant away, saved all their romaine lettuce for a salad, and went on with their lives.
Future studies will show a large drop in the murder rate around this time. Thank you, Among Us.
Do you think history and society would have changed if our sky was a different color?
Colors can have a large effect on our mood and imagination. A blue sky could have given humans made us calmer and sadder than we think we usually are. Red skies could hypothetically have fueled more feelings of power, rage, and lust throughout time. The result could be a world different in any number of ways - more sex-positivity or mass incarceration, polyamory as the romantic norm, still having slavery, or anything else.
What could have changed if the sky had been yellow? Or green? Or purple? Or polka-dotted? Could such a simple change in the world have such a drastic change on human history?
There are times I question the entire system of society we've built up.
I think of all the luxurious things humans created — television, movies, cars, airplanes, boats, video games, and the like. How many serious needs did they fill at first? Or are they things we only wanted once we knew about them? Then after having them around so long, we now think of these wants as needs?
Sometimes I wonder where the line between “unexpected need” and “manufactured desire” is drawn. Wherever it is, a big chunk of society always falls on the latter side. Then I ask, "how much is a society built on selling wants disguised as needs worth?"
I'm starting to realize life is less about how far you go and more about going a little further each day. It gives you room to find joy in the short-term and build success for the long-term.
The medium-term can go to hell.
"Love the Neighbor" seems like a solid Christian saying for being a better person.
But how does the saying apply to someone in your neighborhood that's homeless? If you live in a pack apartment building, do you love just your immediate neighbors or everyone in the building? If you live in a gated, white Christian community, do you still love people outside it that you don't see often?
Isn't it just easier to say something like "love everyone around you," "love your fellow humans," or even "don't be a selfish jerk?"
I've noticed people often get into an existential panic about the world potentially being:
- Part of someone's imagination, and we're just supporting characters in their dream
- A vast computer simulation
- Created five minutes ago and all our memories before then are fake
- Diluted in meaning by the endless number of better parallel worlds
- The result of some God sneezing without a tissue
None of that changes that, whatever this world is, it feels just as real. It treats us the same and gives us the same sensory perceptions and feelings of who we are. When something makes us laugh or cry, it gives us the same feeling of joy or sadness, whether it's real or not. Isn't that enough for us to accept things as reality?
But it may not be a good enough silver lining for the "we are godly mucus" theory.
Time for a thought experiment!
Let's say a frontline healthcare worker caught COVID-19. Considering the positive work they do for others, and how they likely have good character, most people would hope they recover from it.
Now let's say a famous dictator in history caught COVID-19, like Hitler or Mussolini. Considering the deaths and societal damage that happened under them, and that they just weren't good people, most people wouldn't hope they recover. Instead, they'd be glad they got infected and be happy if they suffered long-term health complications or even death.
I'm not drawing a parallel between fascist leaders and anyone else here. But this shows most people would take a person's character and effects on others into account. Between these two extremes, there's a wide range of good and bad wishes we'd have for people infected with COVID. This proves the statement "we'd never wish this disease on anyone" to be false.
All this is something to remember in case someone, or a group of people, tries to gaslight or manipulate you into feeling differently.
Here on New Haven's Orange Street, there's a place called The Audobon. It has a gym, a store, a rooftop lounge, and a restaurant on the ground. The restaurant, oddly enough, has fencing around the outdoor tables.
I didn't know why such fences were needed until I looked across the street. People outside are right across from the New Haven Housing Authority. Where citizens go for housing assistance and often wait outside in a large bench area.
Were these fences added so tenants didn't need to see the less-fortunate as they eat? To avoid the cognitive dissonance of living in expensive, self-indulgent housing while watching those in public housing? To avoid grappling with how homes like their reinforce structural inequality in society while they enjoy their cocktails?
I can only speculate.
As we mourn the loss of the Supreme Court's liberal icon, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, I can already hear the hypocrisy attacks from either side.
- Democrats: You refused to appoint a justice during the last election year in 2016, but you're appointing one in this election year!
- Republicans: You wanted to appoint a justice during the last election year in 2016, but you don't want to appoint one in this election year!
The main difference is, in 2016, it was at the start of the year. This year the election's less than two months away. But that kind of nuance gets lost when party leaders focus more on discrediting the other and justifying themselves to their base.
As if we didn't have enough of that already.
You ever get a phone notification and stare at it a while? I'll admit I do. When I'm feeling even more lonely and isolated than usual, a notification icon is like a drug.
It makes me feel needed and wanted. It tells me that someone, somewhere, needs my input on something. It tells me something can't make any more progress without me. It makes me feel important. It adds validation to my brief existence.
I stare at that notification icon, even though I know it's unhealthy. I know it's reinforcing the idea that I need others' attention for validation. I know that idea is poisonous and plays into tech's goal of stealing our attention.
But I keep staring, taking in the pleasure, and knowing the long-term costs. I feel that warm comfort that will, slowly but surely, burn part of me to cinders. I take the drug again and again.