- Heidegger said, to choose is to choose not to be free. Because every choice we make precludes other possibilities.
- I wish I could have it all.
- Then life wouldn’t be precious, would it?
- We’re always doing so many things, always running around, trying to prove ourselves worthy. It’s often not about needfulness, but ego and self-edification. But still it makes me so happy to achieve the things I work for.
- I didn’t have to work for what most makes me happy: my mother, my girlfriend, my friends—the love they give so generously.
- I also feel that way, but—the things I work for take time, take so much of me, that I hardly have anything left for people. I know it’s not okay, because people aren’t things or titles. They have hearts and legs. They can get tired. They can leave.
- I haven’t seen my mother in a while. I don’t even remember when we last had a proper conversation.
- My friend, his mother got dementia. He couldn’t see her for a couple of weeks because of work, and when he finally visited her, she didn’t know him anymore.
- I keep waiting for him because I believe that if I am patient, things will fall into place. But maybe I’m just kidding myself.
- Maybe you should stop hoping. Expectation will cut you. Let things unfold with indifference.
- And if things unfold in a way I don’t wish?
- Let them be. Let him go.
- But I don’t think I’ll find another like him.
- You know, that’s bullshit.
- I don’t think I can ever let go of attachment.
- We are all works in progress.
- But what would I hold on to? I’d drown.
- You could flow with the current.
- I’d sink.
- Then you might know peace.