Is *quality of life* the freedom to be your own boss and to have freedom from the chains of country and culture? Or is *quality of life* accumulating material things? This is another black and white question. Think about it as on axis, or a plane. ...
The dichotomy of black and white as opposed to living without any kind of conflict because no conflict actually exists. *Western Culture* creates a sense of good and evil in everyone. Without something to fight against, there is nothing to define ourselves by. Indigenous people who live in harmony with their own ecosystem accept all around them as it is - they are *harmonic*, if you will, to use a cliché'd phrase. The mentality of black and white simply doesn't exist. There is no reason to define oneself b...
Discuss. ...
The indigenous people who live in the *Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous Okrug* have a tradition where they name a place after the person who is buried there. This means that as generations go by, the names of places change. They are as fluid as the people themselves, overreigned by a immutable tradition. ...
I am split between the idea of saving a race or group of a species (including humans) who have been overtaken and passed by the remainder of the world and left far behind and letting them die out as most non-adaptive creatures have in the past. Technology is the main culprit for this rushing onward. Being left behind means inevitable death. Being a sort of conservation *biologist* (I should really put that word in quotes), I veer towards the former path. I clearly see that the latter road is the one that ...
I sit alone in the huge room of the ground floor of the guest house in *Viidu*. I drove Kairi to the bus station in Kuressaare where she departed at 8.20. I did not wait for her to depart. She took her backpack and bag, told me *it was fun for me* and walked away. I drove first to fill up the vacant truck with diesel then *tagasi Viidusse*. We attempted to guess each others' ages during the drive. She estimated 33 for me. I, 25 for her. Apparently, we are both older that the guesses, but we did not state o...
Kairi is at the table to my left. The wooden *dinner* table of this guest house in *Viidu*. She re-entered the room perhaps forty minutes ago and we have not spoken a single word to each other in that time. Nothing is particularly wrong, however. I categorize us as *friends* at this point and if friends wish to be silent and self-absorbed, they should be allowed to be. One great problem I faced in the past with relationships is not being able to give the other person space to do their own things - to be se...
Yesterday, my thoughts did not have enough granularity. That is, the granularity was too low. Their incipient relations were clipped at their collective buds. They grew singularly and apart from one another. Lack of concentration and stumbling thinking which accompanies it results in this lumpiness. *Separate lumpiness*. The thoughts take on egos of their own, becoming much like humans in regarding themselves as unique and free-standing individuals. Given time, one of these thoughts would reign over all ot...
I have found that when I consume too much and my tummy is overly satiated, I become depressed. Though I know this to be true, I continue to exhibit this tendency. I find it a habit overseeing other habits to let the subordinate habits run wild even though I intellectually know they will make me feel unhappy (or alternately replace with another negative emotion). So, I informed Kairi, as she was coming back down to the expansive ground floor of the guest house in Viidu (our temporary home) that I was feelin...
The subject question is a touch of the realism I experienced today after feeling a emotional push that I don't get very often these years. Kairi and I were in *Selver* in *Kuressaare*, purchasing a few things for our lunch. This event itself (lunch) did not occur for several hours. This **push** came when I saw her randomly in the shop after we split upon entrance to find our separate comestibles. She smiled when we bumped into each other and my stomach dipped. I did and did not like the feeling, but defin...
Whilst riding a bicycle today from *Viidu* to *Kihelkonna* and **back**, I glanced time and again at the simple, three gear shifting mechanism on the right handle bar, trying to shake a pricking notion from my head. It finally came to me exactly what the bothersome twinge was. It was *Brynn*. After fourteen years, the cunt's shenanigans still throb in my subconscious. Her refusal of technology was mind-numbing. It was unfathomable to anyone who didn't personally encounter her. They sound like a ludicrous a...
