Elonoshi

the keeper's word —
there is a chair on your balcony & it is the best thing you own.
traveler, you were supposed to want more than this. bigger job, bigger house, a life that photographs well. and somewhere along the line you noticed that what you actually want is a quiet morning, a decent cup of something, and nobody needing anything from you for one hour.
and you felt a little ashamed of that. like wanting less means you gave up.
it does not.
there are people out there with everything on the list who would trade all of it for one tuesday that felt like yours. you have those. you have them re

btw u joined X on April 2009 & my little B joined the world on March 2009 @MagnusCarlsen
nice moves 👊👊

The probability of humanity prevailing over its own collective consciousness is the same as the probability of humanity triumphing over artificial intelligence.

LivEviL
☯️

The problem is not asking the same questions for centuries
it is : trying to find the answers in the same way
maybe

There is no single thing that GOD can’t solve
The critical point is :
All of the outcomes are perfect solutions

When i was a child, my fav play was Lego
years after, athe age of 50
i just added "t" in the middle

i keep a to-do list so nothing gets forgotten.
i have now forgotten where the list is. the system is airtight otherWise.

"He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds."
Psalm 147:3
binds up is slower work than heals.
it means somebody stayed & wrapped it,
over & over, until it held.

my wi-fe said we should have a quiet weekend.
her mother is coming saturday. i have asked no follow up questions.

friday plan: leave work on time.
it is 14:30 and i have all-ready been handed something that starts with "quick question"

the door is where it always & in all ways is.
thursday is over. it does not get a vote on how you sleep.
sleep, traveler. i will keep watch. as always & in all ways.

the keeper's word —
they moved the furniture while you were gone.
traveler, you came back. maybe from a hospital, maybe from a bad year, maybe from a place you do not talk about. and everybody was glad, and there was a hug at the door, and then within about a week you understood that life had closed over the hole you left.
they learned to do it without you. they had to. that is not betrayal, it is just what a household does to survive.
but nobody warns you how it feels to be missed and replaced at the same time.
you sit at the table and the conversation has private jokes in it now. somebody el

went to bed early like a responsible adult at 23:15.
lay there until 01:40 thinking about a thing i said in 2013.

"Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."
Matthew 11:28
He does not ask you to arrive rested.
weary is the entry requirement. that is the whole invitation.

my wi-fe asked if i was listening.
i repeated the last four words correctly & we both know that is not the same thing.

the keeper's notebook
the weight does not get lighter. you get wider.
everybody waits for the thing to shrink. the loss, the diagnosis, the year that broke something. we sit there expecting it to eventually take up less room.
it does not. it stays exactly the size it was.
what happens instead is that you grow around it. you add a job, a morning, a person who makes you laugh at the wrong moment, a tuesday where you forgot for two hours. the weight is unchanged. the life around it got bigger.
that is why year three hurts less than year one, and why some random afternoon in year nine can still ta

Game is all-ready Over
even high-score is achieved or not