Like if you downvote everything you don’t upvote, it almost doesn’t have an effect because all those things are equally bearing one new downvote and hence don’t change sort precedence with each other.
What if we killed you and then saved the few cells that survived longest and cloned you from them and kept doing that until you had skin tougher than diamonds and super strength and an unquenchable thirst for blood?
I know a lot of you don’t like hearing from the bible, but one line always comes to me: “This is the day that the Lord has made”.
I don’t know exactly what this means, but it gives me a sort of FOMO that gets me moving. Like, this day is some seriously interesting and deep shit if I want to get into it.
Sort of like if a friend offers me some wine to taste and Im like “nah I don’t feel like tasting wine right now” and he’s like “This is one of three bottles made by the master vintner Jacque Le’Somnamelier and it’s $50k a bottle and won awards in fifteen countries in blind taste tests”.
It’s like “doesn’t matter if you aren’t in the mood; you don’t want to miss this”.
As in, pain is literally dampened by dopamine, and dopamine comes when you move, so it hurts less when you move.
Like I’ve encountered some serious monsters in this life, that came as a result of procrastination. I’ve experienced hunger, violence, and disease that all came my way because I froze with fear and uncertainty.
As Confucius says: “It does not matter how slow you go, so long as you do not stop.”
It’s so hard to believe, but I remind myself that there is an almost magical barrier in front of me. It’s like an Indians Jones illusion. It looks like hell in front of me. But if I step into it willingly, it becomes heaven.
Like a door, and through the door is your living room, but you know when you step through it you’ll be in Narnia or something. A magical/hologram projecting doorway, that looks like it leads to Place A but actually leads to Place B, is the best analogy for my mind.
The reality I’m pointing at with the analogy is that leaning into it is the only way to make the pain stop. Because if you run from it, it chases you.
I was lucky to learn this in some long meditation retreats. It’s always about day 3 or 4 that I realize the only way I’m going to stay sane is if I actually meditate. And even though it’s sitting still literally, it’s the willing engagement with the thing I’m trying to avoid that makes it bearable. “The wisdom of no escape” is what Pema Chodron calls that, I think.
Somebody else once called it “Leap like a tiger while sitting”. That tiger’s predator face and posture is about as raw an expression of dopamine as could ever exist. And you get that dopamine rush, that cessation of the suffering, that only go straight ten thousand years try try try direction, when you stop trying to distract yourself with thoughts and accept that you’re there in the meditation hall and nothing is going to happen to relieve you of that.
It isn’t pretty, but it is beautiful: If you stop and cower, everything gets worse.
I read every Star Wars novel there was in the mid 90s. I don’t regret it. It’s cheap sci fi, in a framework of an established universe. There are some cool stories.
Unfortunately, the stuff I read now isn’t canon (I think?). I read Timothy Zahn’s and Kevin J Anderson’s series, that took place 5 and 7(12?) years after Endor.
The Adventures of Han Solo is dope as fuck, and I still use the dogfighting strategy I learned in that book when I play anything with dogfighting. Same with The Adventures of Lando Calrissian, though it gets a little funkier with the sci fi elements. There’s a whole thing with teleporting space whales talking about pooping in battle.
Tales from Jabba’s Palace, Tales from the Mos Eisley Cantina, those are fun because they give every character in the background a backstory. All the stories intersect then go their separate ways at the moments appearing in Episodes 4 and 6. Like you learn the happy puppy love between the rancor and the guy in the hood, and it makes it sadder when you see him cry.