People carry different suitcases full of their own feelings every day and it's never the same weight as yours
When I think about feelings, I sometimes imagine a magical suitcase. We carry this suitcase everywhere we go, but not all of its contents have the same “weight.” Some feelings are heavy, like when we feel sad or overwhelmed. Other emotions, like joy and optimism, are so light they almost carry us. And then there are the times when our magical suitcase does truly strange things, pulling us in directions we don’t want to go. Anger can “pull” us to say things we later regret. So can jealousy. Sometimes it feels like the suitcase is full of concrete, and we can hardly drag it around.
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It seems that there is a very specific area in the brain which could be called poetic memory and which records what has charmed us, what has moved us, what gives our life its beauty.
Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity... It is, in short, the subject of the history of the Grail. Only a predestined being has the ability to ask another: what is your torment? And he doesn't have it when he enters life. He has to go through years of dark night.
Almost everyone in the world is self-absorbed within themselves. They regard themselves as the most important beings. People rarely speak bad about themselves. They are the heroes in their own story no matter how much entanglement of lies and bullshit is needed to achieve a gratifying and satisfying version of the tale.
By observing their actions, you could trace back their thought pattern, intentions, interest, and vision. Stop for a moment and analyze the action. Stop caring about what they say, what they think about how the world should be, how everyone can execute their best, or why the world is so messed up. They speak whatever hell it takes to sound amazing. Listen to their actions. Listen only and only to their actions.
We all have forests on our minds. Forests unexplored, unending. Each one of us gets lost in the forest, every night, alone.