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Musings that fluctuate between pragmatism and abstraction.

— somber ink —
We are the authors of our own lives. The new chapters I have in mind are too wonderful not to be explored. No writer’s block here.

We are the authors of our own lives. The new chapters I have in mind are too wonderful not to be explored. No writer’s block here.


I envelop this earth

through mind alone

a stone’s throw away

from something


and not brave

simply different enough

to make one reflect

and turn inwards.


I envelop this earth

through heart alone

the light that shone in me

allowed me to see

much more than I’d need

to navigate its deepest seas.


Satisfied, but never pleased.


Hope to my side

and not on me

not once more on my knees.

There’s the love that teaches you things, and then there’s the love that changes you forever. There’s the love that shines light into your darkest recesses and shows you that there are no monsters hiding in there after all. There’s the love that embraces the coldest night just as firmly and passionately as it does the sunniest morning. The love that is full, complete, balanced and peacefully overwhelming.

I have found that four givens are particularly relevant to psychotherapy: the inevitability of death for each of us and for those we love; the freedom to make our lives as we will; our ultimate aloneness; and, finally, the absence of any obvious meaning or sense to life. However grim these givens may seem, they contain the seeds of wisdom and redemption. […] [I]t is possible to confront the truths of existence and harness their power in the service of personal change and growth.

— Irvin D. Yalom, "Love’s Executioner"

Accept your nature, and you will radiate light.

— personal aphorism

Love cannot accept what it is. Everywhere on Earth, it cries out against kindness, compassion, intelligence, everything that leads to compromise. Love demands the impossible, the absolute, the sky on fire, inexhaustible springtime, life after death, and death itself transfigured into eternal life.

— Albert Camus (via the-ramblings-of-the-writers)

As a remedy to life in society, I would suggest the big city. Nowadays, it’s the only desert within our means.

— Albert Camus (via the-city-sc3ne)

We do not need to reveal ourselves to others, but only to those we love. For then we are no longer revealing ourselves in order to seem but in order to give. There is much more strength in a man who reveals himself only when it is necessary.

— Albert Camus

The misery and greatness of this world: it offers no truths, but only objects for love. Absurdity is king, but love saves us from it.

— Albert Camus (via aforceofcircumstance)

One must learn to love.— This is what happens to us in music: first one has to learn to hear a figure and melody at all, to detect and distinguish it, to isolate it and delimit it as a separate life; then it requires some exertion and good will to tolerate it in spite of its strangeness, to be patient with its appearance and expression, and kindhearted about its oddity:—finally there comes a moment when we are used to it, when we wait for it, when we sense that we should miss it if it were missing: and now it continues to compel and enchant us relentlessly until we have become its humble and enraptured lovers who desire nothing better from the world than it and only it.— But that is what happens to us not only in music: that is how we have learned to love all things that we now love. In the end we are always rewarded for our good will, our patience, fairmindedness, and gentleness with what is strange; gradually, it sheds its veil and turns out to be a new and indescribable beauty:—that is its thanks for our hospitality. Even those who love themselves will have learned it in this way: for there is no other way. Love, too, has to be learned.

— Friedrich Nietzsche (via hprplx)

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