Too big for my own cage

Here it is beating. I don’t hear it though, neither feel it. Impossible. It’s becoming bigger and bigger and bigger than my own cage. A cage, a rib, a heart, an explosion. Way too big. Happiness knocking on the wall of my cage with no reasons… but one request… surrender! Sadness never takes it all this way. Sadness is known territory, always content with a familiar light, a thread to hang onto… Thread of hope? Thread of despair? Thread of hanging there? But a known thread… Happiness takes it all. No prisoner. A decisive unknown asking for all you’ve got. All the trust you hold onto.

Recycling to innovation?

From a wall board, a recycling board. The good thing in recycling is the notion of evolution and innovation. The thoughts is here, I already had it with a previous story, and it’s back there, recycled hence not exactly the same, already evolved, and ready for proper innovation. My own PET –Personnel Evolving Thoughts- turning into FLEECE –FLowing EnErgy Creating Evolution. Wow!

hold on… I’m collecting my thoughts

A huge white-board -4×2 meters- there on my wall. It’s not a white board actually, rather a wall-board –and not a wild-boar, as this will really not have any use in this story. A wall as a board, and much too white, even with all the post-it on it. Assumptions? Dreams? Desires? Ideas? More ideas? Facts? All thoughts passing through my head once, again and again, or simply once, striking like lightning… At times a wild-board, wild thoughts…. At time a well-board, proper thoughts…. At other, a wall-bored, thoughts going in circles. Once in a while I look at it, my collection… hum… maybe “collecting your thoughts” is not always the solution…

6 to 1 or 1 by 6?

1, smell; 2, sound; 3, sensation on the skin; 4, taste; 5, sight; 6, the electromagnetic field. 6 senses to make sense. 6 to 1…. Or 1 to 1… a trend of the moment, vision, vision and vision only to make sense, What about 1 by 6 instead? 6 times more information, 6 times more influences, 6 times bigger life?

Unhuman by proxy?

One day virtuality makes her heart so big it explodes at every breath, and the next day that same virtuality makes her heart so big it shutdowns saving every breath. She swims in an open and vast world where all choices are possible, among them, being her or a dream, being human or unhuman. Are we really who we are on that other side of the screen? The fish wonders… Neurosciences proved it, between real and virtual, the brain reacts the same, creates the same chemical reaction, the same oxytocin. Funny enough 15 minutes of social media just replying online to people we will never meet or see is an amazing way to create that famous oxytocin we all crave for… “Wolf! Wolf!” Withdrawal syndrome.

Wolf! Wolf!

“Wolf! Wolf!” bips the smartphone… “Wolf! Wolf!” screams the tablet… and there on the other side of the screen the fish watches horror movies in real life without a tear or an emotion on his face. It is just another news, just another part of the world, just another 140 characters on twitter. Just another “Wolf! Wolf!” shouted to the void would say Esope.

Human by proxy opens her eyes. Bipping alerts and notifications, her soul hesitating between sleep and reality… Fact, the world is still running, the proof, that latest news notification from several apps. Fact 2, each of them -notifications- are fighting to be the first one on the phone with what could be “the less important news of the history”… and thefishontheothersideofthescreen wonders what it will really feel to be human…. Is that what senses is?

It’s in the book

Page 37, how to develop mindfulness, easy, 0 minutes of preparation, 5 to 10 minutes of cooking. Page 101, how to build up confidence, easy to difficult, 0 minutes preparation, 5 to 60 minutes marinating time or more, cooking time variable depending on selected ingredients. Page 373… And do not forget, like every recipe used in the kitchen of life, the cook master ingredient is… love.

The recipe

“What you making” he said looking at the bowl

“Sense” I replied


“Yes, a bit of experience, a pinch of thought, 5 minutes of self-reflecting, a bit more of observation” I turned the page of the recipe book “and that’s it. Though.. whatever I do, everyday it tastes different.”