en-thy-meme

[en-thy-meme]

the duality of man AND the proven observational growth of time 😎

[en-thy-meme]

oh how delicious the feeling of “this isn’t my problem” is

“i’m glad it’s not my problem” i thought to myself as i looked at the sponge caked in soggy food, remnants of meals past.

i’m leaving for home in 2 days. i’ll be home for three weeks. so as of right now, that sponge isn’t my concern. i’ll be gone.

and how delightful that relief was. to detach from responsibility of that sponge— deciding whether to clean or to throw it away, cleaning the sopping chunks, rising them down the drain, erasing a remnant— killing a ghost.

the ghost of accountability, a good thing in moderation but full capable of bombarding every moment with asking over and over again “how am i going to fix this?”

how can i take care of it? when can it fit in my schedule, on your list of things to do?

how can i make it work? where are the things i can use in my alchemy? my pension for making the clean dirty and the dirty clean again?

and i’m not, in truth, affecting permanent change if i clean the sponge. it will get dirty again; that’s just the way it works. and i could ask others to clean the chunks, but we all get busy and i’m sure i’ve had chunks they’ve picked up before

or is that rationalizing it?

can i not simply enjoy the gracious feeling of releasing possession of something as your duty?

there’s nothing to rationalize if the relationship is fictitious in the beginning.

the sponge is a communal use. a need we all share among each other; we are all effected.

so the burden i place on myself to upkeep the sponge is entirely undue. i don’t own more responsibility than another over the fate of this gross sponge.

so i can release the world from my shoulders. i can end my masquerade of Atlas, pretending my movements altered the tilt of everyone else’s world. like if i faltered i failed my duty as the foundation everything is built on.

because it’s not that. my shoulders bear no universal weight; i am as inconsequential as a blade of grass.

and what good is a blade of grass that cowers under itself, crouching in imagined agony having grabbed the world to place on my shoulders in self declaration.

it’s not real. and maybe the next answer is to hold that feeling of blissful detachment from playing Atlas. to find it, grasp it, emphasize it, make it grow in every imaginable angle, make the feeling fill your body.

differentiate what’s your problem and what’s not.

you’ll know if it’s your problem; you’ll know because you meet it in action. when you’re just living and run into a conflict, if you say to yourself “it’s not my problem” and you feel release, it really wasn’t your problem.

if you feel resistance, don’t force something that’s definitely your problem into a vacuum of apathetic disinterest.

there are extremes to these things but the balance comes out in silly little puzzles that you solve again and again, forgetting how much you loved it the first time.

the cathartic joy of learning, forgetting, and remembering is the core of humanity. in my eyes, it’s the purpose.

every time you remember a thing you forgot, that’s a new level of existence. you’ve grown into a new self, new experiences; you leveled up in the game.

the main goal is to level up as many times as possible until you hit hyper existisitential content, and then your job is to accept it.

and you learn to accept it, forget how you accepted it, and remember to accept it again.

and you progress.

[en-thy-meme]

I really like knowing there are people who “get it” and we live independently and return in conversation that reassures one another that we still get it

[en-thy-meme]

it’s my duty to note the sunlight streaking through the tree branches and reflecting onto the ground

[en-thy-meme]

telling myself it’s just a phase when in reality it’s a cycle

[en-thy-meme]

truth transcends preference