DAY 34 — The End of History
A beautiful photo from my childhood.
It was taken in January 2020.
Such vibrant energy just emanating.
He sure looks like a comic drawer and short story writer.
Maybe an enthusiastic fella.
Now post-quarantine world.
Disgruntled confused lunatic.
Likely to wake up so he can go back to sleep.
Hold up.
Wait a second there.
DID I GROW FATTER?!
The absolute horror.
Isn’t it so weird that at every point in your life, you think you have everything figured out?
I was reading about it.
The End Of History Illusion.
Human beings always believe they are who they are and there is nothing further to evolve into.
And for me, that makes so much sense about not getting along with parents at a young age and valuing them when you are older stuff.
Like I really thought about it (cause well I have the time to).
I am thinking I would be so super protective of my kid at all my times.
For those of you who disagree, it’s your opinion, fair enough, but I have a feeling you may be thinking of your kid at a bigger age.
You may not be thinking of the whole process of her/him growing up to that age.
Because I think that the moment they put the baby in your arms and you look into its scrunched up little face, I think you realise properly and truly
“This is my child. I am half the reason she is in my arms right now. I have to make sure he grows up to be a fine woman. None of my stupid mistakes. Nope. No, sir, none at all. Never letting her drape a snake on her shoulders.”
And as she grows up, you wonder if she is capable of certain things.
It’s YOUR child.
More precious than anything.
I must be going mad.
Anyway, the “end of history” illusion can be explained by the fact you are more likely to pay a good amount of money for music your favorite singer will release ten years in the future, than for the music whoever your favorite singer ten years back was.
Interesting concept, though.
That’s it for today.
You can spend some time staring at my beautiful selfies.
I won’t judge.
(I will)
