Memory is a real motherfucker. Unreliable and fading with every passing second. I could have sworn this copy of Above Ourselves: The Art of True Happiness came from an old dusty box from my late Grandfather’s house. But, I may be wrong.
What you highlight in a book is a window to your soul. It is cool to see the commonality. Man’s search for meaning, and how it has manifested itself through time.
The inside cover of this book was stamped APRIL 13th 1973.
What is better? Happy?
Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger
I don’t know, probably being more vulnerable, or maybe the act of highlighting with the intention of being happier is good enough — and therefore better. And the snake eats it’s own tail. Someone get me off this carousel.
☝️
Happiness is probably less an art, and more a skill to be honed. Sharpened. Sword to stone.. but it seems that generations upon generations have fallen prey to the self-help guru.
I don’t know. I am going to keep highlighting every book. Telling myself some sort of story and leaving a breadcrumb trail back to my soul. It will be a nice artifact for someone to stumble upon on a rainy Saturday morning.
In other news, Entrance to a Descent is still available for purchase. Thank you to everyone who bought a copy. I am saying this with peace and love.