Majestic vision

You will need to drive some time before you can reach this quietness. The sound of your own breathing becomes audible. The wind comes to remind you that you are here and now, awake, not wandering through a subtle dream.

When you look up, it is not the sky that you see, you are looking into the infinite. The infinite beauty of this universe. The infinite beauty of this life. Let those moments flow through your retina, straight into your memory palace. Build a new room for them.

It is moments such as these that make the life so precious. Worship them like your own heart. And when you will be old enough, you will return to these rooms and you will smile.

Il faut rouler longtemps avant d’atteindre un tel silence. Ici, le son de votre propre respiration devient audible. Le vent vient vous rappeler que vous êtes ici et maintenant, bien éveillé, et non en train d’errer dans un rêve subtile.

Quand vous levez les yeux, ce n’est pas seulement le ciel que vous voyez, vous contemplez l’infini. La beauté infinie de l’univers. La beauté infinie de cette vie. Laissez ces instants couler à travers votre rétine pour rejoindre directement votre palais mental. Construisez-leur une nouvelle pièce.

Ce sont de tels moments qui rendent la vie si précieuse. Chérissez-les comme votre propre cœur. Et quand viendra la vieillesse, vous retournerez dans ces pièces, et vous sourirez.

Walking through the flames

There is always something heroic to get up from a difficult situation.

But you can have a thousand people around, and nobody will lend you a hand to help you out. Not at all. It is quite the other way around.

People will look on the other side and pretend they did not notice you lying on the floor and dying.

Remember one thing, though: when you get better (if you get better), those same people will be here to cheer with you and tell you how proud they are that you made it.

Moral of the story: do not wait for them to open a beer. You do not need anyone to have a drink.

The luxury of a glass of water

It was still dark outside. The window was slightly open. A new day was about to come. Every new day was only a pale copy from the yesterday’s template. What new? Nothing much, maybe a new pain. The lower back? The legs? The joints? It does not matter anymore.

A big mug of coffee will put all of this behind. Why am I having everything that I was dreaming of and still, the happiness seems to not be around? Maybe I should change my state of mind? Maybe… but, easy to say, harder to think. Working hard to see your bank account growing bigger and bigger and, in exchange, what do I get? White hair, dark circles. I live the dream of the poor. But its smile seems realer than the one on my face. Maybe this is the real price of things: time, health, and sleep.