One Spoon a Day Will Not Keep the Doctor Away

A comment inspired by a video from the Institute "of whatever" on how "health freaks" are demonizing sugar.

Here are two documentaries on this sweet poison.

The Secrets of Sugar - The Fifth Estate

MOVIE STAR or someone like you and me.

So I’ve decided to change, to shed my proverbial skin and find myself; somehow. And that is what’s crazy and sad: I know that I’m in here and not out there; somewhere.

Desperate to be, I bought a Tesla. The car can fly. And yet, it takes me nowhere, for wherever I’ve been, I am not there. It’s a fast ride to a vacuum: big houses, noises, private planes and people. God, I know so many freaking people. Not a single flight alone anywhere. Flights to nowhere: a city, a beach somewhere, where I will walk alone and friends and family will tell me how lucky I am.  “you ought to be happy,” “do you know how many people want to be you?”

Really? Millions of people, according to this motivational speaker wannabe, want to be me, and I just want to meet these people and ask them: who am I? Because fuck if I know.

So I sold the Tesla, sold the house in the Hamptons, stopped pretending and said: “no more,” to all the busy bees.

And now they know who I am: I’m the irresponsible narcissist who threw all away for a dream of a better place, a place where I might be. “ Fuck you if you can’t breathe.” “What will you do? ”What will you do for me?”

Your what is a why for me, because all the material things you claim ought to make me happy led me here: a cul-de-sac where other people are trying desperately to be; grasping at windmills, worshipping Cardi B, sipping schadenfreude tea, and finding validation on the desperation of wannabes. I-I just wanna be me.


                                              

The Anatomy of a Kiss

                                             ‘Beatrice’, by Marie Spartali Stillman

On the face of a girl, any girl, there is a protruding bone medical books erroneously named the zygomatic bone; a revision to this lack of romanticism is needed. 

The kissing bone is where an astute boy places his thumb to kiss a girl, his other four fingers should touch the back of her neck gently, and as he leans in for a kiss, presses a bit harder.

His fingers on the back of her neck exert just enough pressure that she feels all fingers against her skin throughout the kiss. When the kissing is over, the girl, if the boy has done exactly what was described above, will move her head back to look at his face, and as she does, his fingers on the back of her neck should feel like a light gentle breeze, breaking on the skin like waves.

Of course, there is the consideration of proper hygiene, and by that I mean, clean hands. If a girl is about to kiss a boy and he realizes his hands are unclean, a different protocol takes place . 

The boy must then place his hands firmly on her shoulders, that, however, is an extremely delicate place since the shoulders are so close to her breasts.

A boy with dirty hands then needs to squeeze her shoulders hard enough so that she feels all his fingers on her shoulders throughout the kiss, because you see, a kiss has nothing to do with lips touching lips; but where a hand is placed.

The first milliseconds of a kiss is when the girl determines whether or not she will enjoy kissing you. Kiss her in that manner and she will feel safe and lean into your kiss; allow your hands to be free and she will spend the entire kiss wondering where your hands will land.

A boy who thinks a girl wants to be touched in as many body parts as possible during a kiss is a fool. 

A girl who wants to be touched in as many body parts as possible during a kiss has already been kissed enough; you will waste a good kiss on the wrong girl.

Everything that matters in this world takes time and requires skill.

A kiss is an antidote to a hurried life. In a kiss you can bend and shape time, slow it down, disconnect from the physical world, and fly for a bit. Your hands, will determine how high you fly or if you take off at all.

Every girl in the world has a kissing bone and the memory of a kiss, a light gentle breeze she craves in her fingertips. 

If you've ever seen a girl lost in thought, running her fingers on the back of her neck; she's remembering a kiss.

The "life coaching" Industry.

      Doesn't anyone have dreams anymore? Is it all about the paycheck? There are a few professions I could never do and coaching is one of them, for sure. Every single commercial on social media is about "making money coaching" which is a euphemism to cheerleading. Ironically, all the commercials are about becoming wealthy and none about being passionate about something with your body and soul.

     Strange society we are building; I am not a person prone to retrogressive ideas but there is something to be said about building something, striving to do something difficult that takes years to achieve. Something you do alone; because anything worthwhile you will do alone.

     It isn't until you reach a breaking point in your work and the clock on the wall marks 3am, 4am, and you make coffee, have a banana nut keto muffin  to eat and the last thing in your mind is sleeping; it isn't until then that you know: you are doing what you were meant to be doing. 

BLUE MOON and the world inside

Every once in a blue moon, I know my place in the world; as if my GPS was roaming and it found me: my precise parallels, coordinates, latitude and longitude, set to now; and I feel that there is nothing beyond myself.

I feel like a tree or mountain would feel if it could feel; present in time, place and purpose. I ask if a tree or mountain would feel less, if it would want more, if it would desire, as we do, to be elsewhere, in order to  do what it can perfectly do right here.

For all the analogies we have for flying, it is on the stillness of these moments that I find myself utterly grounded, paradoxically one with the vastness of our universe.

Flying is aimlessly seeking for oneself outside of itself.

A monk sitting still in meditation and thankfulness needs no wings to fly further than a bird of any kind; nothing material can connect the vastness of the soul and oneself.

The invisible is not only essential as the Little Prince taught us, but also the only portal to ourselves, for we can't be found elsewhere of ourselves.

Every once in a blue moon we don't reflect light; light is the source inside and it shines until we once again forget to be blind to our place and time. Without our inner light, all we have left is our social climb.

                                                    

Life Lessons From 100-Year-Olds

HEALING

In many shamanic societies, if you came to a shaman or medicine person complaining of being disheartened, dispirited, or depressed, you would have been asked one of these 4 questions:

1- When did you stop DANCING?

2- When did you stop SINGING?

3- When did you stop BEING ENCHANTED BY STORIES?

4- When did you stop FINDING COMFORT IN SILENCE? 

                                   MEDITATE...

           

social contract @ the dark side of us

I was listening to one of the greatest songs ever recorder and thought of my absent father, who couldn't hear it without getting really annoyed; and once had the audacity to say: "this person is screaming."

Pink Floyd - The Great Gig In The Sky

I think I finally understand what getting old means; it's not when you can't enjoy a new art form or understand a new tech feature, it's when you don't give a damn about learning it. 

It's when you look at it for 2 seconds and think: "Nah, I think I'll go do just about anything else." 

How To Make Instagram Story Highlight Covers For Free: Instagram Tutorial For Story Folders

How to Use Instagram Hashtags for Maximum Exposure

How to Use TikTok - Complete Beginners Guide

How to Edit a TikTok

How to Clone yourself on TikTok  ---------------(really? 2 of me? why?)

Wipe It Down TikTok Tutorial 

Every writer in the world share a single secret, and that is the absurd searches we do when researching any subject. After watching these tutorials, I began pondering about all of these titles and a playful, rhetorical thought crossed my mind:  "Can I just die already?   

So I  typed my frustration into the magical search box because; well, why not? 

" Can I just die already?" And out came this...

This OLD MAN Will Not SURVIVE! - Just Die Already    

I watched almost 12 minutes of this video. I watched because I believe you ought to walk on someone else's shoes before commenting about anything. I didn't find a single amusing, endearing or funny moment in the entirety of this video game. Yet, the kid playing the game was having the time of his life. And the people commenting on it are as clueless as one can get.  

We are all connected in such a strange way.  I think that our social contract needs a serious revision. Or we simply accept that the world has become a very, very ugly place with some nasty, nasty people in it. 

( I debated whether or not to post this, since the whole research made me so depressed that I felt it would not be in anyone's best interest to share it. But I soon realized that the video above has a medical diagnostic function: to determine mental illness. If you watch it and find yourself laughing, having a good time, it is time to look for professional help. )

I am going back to my books,  and some coffee and croissants, while listening to some Zen music...and I will stare at this picture for awhile.

(click on the photo to join me...or don't. )

FOR YOUR CONSIDERATION...

 

The Bilyeu's

 

Inside Quest

Women of Impact

Impact Theory

Self Authoring

 

Morning Rituals

Repeating the same day over and over without a schedule is like building a prison for ourselves.

The only time we are free is when we are following thoughtful directions we've written down for ourselves to follow. Directions for work, love, play; meticulously detailed.

Waking up, day after day, without a written plan is the illusion of freedom; a road paved with spontaneity leads to a shrinking cell.

Yet, even knowing this, every single day I want to shred that schedule to pieces and find me a Parisian Café: for bread, coffee and a nice book. At night!

For Better or Worse

 

How to Deal with Negative Thoughts

 One of the most important tools to have: the ability to stop negative thoughts and pivot to a positive action

Impact Theory

Women of Impact

CONVERSATIONS with TOM | Jordan Peterson on Constructing Your Identity, Chaos and Order, and the Escalating Culture Wars |

 

For all the artists out there, here is how Brazilian laureate poet, Carlos Drummond de Andrade, illustrates, in your language, the consequence of not grasping this. It is my belief that, it is what Dr. Peterson has realized: young people are staring at a stone unable to move forward, or, in Tom Bilyeu words, lacking the skills necessary to move forward.

IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD THERE WAS A STONE
by Carlos Drummond  de Andrade

In the middle of the road there was a stone

There was a stone in the middle of the road

There was a stone

In the middle of the road there was a stone

Never shall I forget this event

In the life of my fatigued retinas

Never shall I forget that in the middle of the road

There was a stone

There was a stone in the middle of the road

In the middle of the road there was a stone

NO MEIO DO CAMINHO TINHA UMA PEDRA
by Carlos Drummond  de Andrade

No meio do caminho tinha uma pedra

Tinha uma pedra no meio do caminho

Tinha uma pedra

No meio do caminho tinha uma pedra

Nunca me esquecerei desse acontecimento

Na vida de minhas retinas tão fatigadas

Nunca me esquecerei que no meio do caminho

Tinha uma pedra

Tinha uma pedra no meio do caminho

No meio do caminho tinha uma pedra

10 favorite channels

 

 ***click on pictures to know more ***

 ****Homework**** watch these and you get the others later ***

The Great Courses

 

Is it Keto?

 

"One Last Time" - Hamilton | WASHINGTON: I want to warn against partisan fighting |

 

 (click on the picture to hear song )

WASHINGTON:

I want to warn against partisan fighting

HAMILTON:

But—

WASHINGTON:

Pick up a pen, start writing

I wanna talk about what I have learned

The hard-won wisdom I have earned

HAMILTON:

As far as the people are concerned

You have to serve, you could continue to serve

WASHINGTON:

No! One last time

The people will hear from me

One last time

And if we get this right

We’re gonna teach ‘em how to say

Goodbye

You and I

HAMILTON:

Mr. President, they will say you’re weak

WASHINGTON:

No, they will see we’re strong

HAMILTON:

Your position is so unique

WASHINGTON:

So I’ll use it to move them along

HAMILTON:

Why do you have to say goodbye?

WASHINGTON:

If I say goodbye, the nation learns to move on

It outlives me when I’m gone

Like the scripture says:

“Everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree

And no one shall make them afraid.”

They’ll be safe in the nation we’ve made

I wanna sit under my own vine and fig tree

A moment alone in the shade

At home in this nation we’ve made

One last time

HAMILTON:

One last time

Lua Cheia

 

De vez em quando, na lua cheia, eu encontro meu lugar no mundo; como se meu GPS estivesse em procura e me encontrasse: meus paralelos precisos, coordenadas, latitude e longitude apontando para agora; e eu sinto que não há nada além de mim.

Eu me sinto como uma árvore ou uma montanha sentiria se pudesse sentir, presente em tempo, lugar e propósito. Eu me pergunto se uma árvore ou montanha se sentiria menos, se desejaria mais, se desejaria, como nós, estar em outro lugar, pra fazer o que pode fazer perfeitamente aqui.

Apesar de todas as analogias que temos para voar, é na quietude desses momentos que me encontro totalmente com os pés no chão, paradoxalmente um com a vastidão de nosso universo.

Voar é buscar a si mesmo descontroladamente, fora de si mesmo.

Um monge sentado quieto em meditação e gratidão não precisa de asas para voar mais longe do que um pássaro de qualquer espécie; nada material pode conectar a vastidão da alma a si mesmo.

O invisível não é apenas essencial, como o Pequeno Príncipe nos ensinou, mas também o único portal para nós mesmos, pois não podemos ser encontrados em outro lugar senão em nós mesmos.

De vez em quando, na lua cheia, não refletimos luz; a luz é a fonte interior, e brilha até que mais uma vez nos esquecemos de ignorar nosso lugar e tempo. Sem nossa luz interior, tudo que nos resta é nossa ascensão social.