Mumbling and bleeding. Bleeding and mumbling.

There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.

Ernest Hemingway

What we love about quotes from the masters is the truth in them. Today’s a good day to bleed a little.

What about? Not the slightest idea. But that’s kind of the point, isn’t it?

Our mind is too small to grasp the complexity it is capable of creating at one go.

Have you ever though the gigantic challenge creating something truly complex represents? Imagine creating an operating system, a building or a bridge, writing Harry Potter or going to the fucking Moon! Think about it, the millions of steps needed to arrive at such destinations are simply mind boggling.

Our hunter-gatherer brain is simply not built to do such feats of imagination. We’re overwhelmed. We quit even before getting started as a way to self-preservate our integrity and, to be fair, sanity.

What’s my point? I don’t know. I told you, I’m just bleeding. All over the place, apparently.

Can’t we just take baby steps? Everything else is just too grand for us mere mortals. Some people are able to run while most of us are yet crawling, while a society made of crawlers and baby-steppers point at the non-runners and yell “you see! That’s what you can achieve!”.

And we all nod our heads in agreement because hey! They’re running! I want to run too! We proceed to have our faces slammed against the floor after our feet get silly.

What’s my point, again? Well, stop listening to anyone that yells, true masters whisper so only the devoted students hear.

In a room full of noise screaming won’t help. Talk softer and everyone will lower their voices to hear you.

And what’s my point here? Stop asking. Why does anything and everything have to have a point? Live life and bleed from time to time, read, laugh, be sad and miserable, that’s what life is about.

What’s all that about being continuously happy anyway? We’re humans. We have a beautiful and wide range of emotions, why is that everyone tries so hard to feel only one particular emotion and discard the importance of all others?

Since when is a rainbow beautiful for having only one color?

Ah, well. This was a nice chat. Thanks for reading my mumbling, my dear.

Mumbling and bleeding. Bleeding and mumbling.

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