Day 2123, confusion.

Daily picture

I never really like discussing with people; I like to ask questions and give snarky remarks but defending my opinion is not what I like or am good at in a conversation. I know some skeptical people about Covid and vaccination, and though I work with them, I try to ignore that part, knowing that arguing with them is futile. Today I couldn’t help overhearing a conversation where the denier brought up all the things he heard from people on the news and online that put vaccination in a bad light; it boiled over in me, and I more or less told him he’s an egoist that only thinks of himself and that he might mention the people that share his opinion as if that is evidence that he is right, but he forgets to mention all the other, and overwhelming, news outlets and sources that recommend vaccination. It is the typical case of cherry-picking what you want to hear and ignoring what doesn’t fit. Me getting angry doesn’t help, of course, he probably enjoys it, and I have the feeling that he does this all just to be difficult. Most of these vaccine deniers have probably never before had any problems with vaccines, and their argument that it all went so fast is kind of strange; what do we know how fast something like that goes? Suddenly we are all experts?

Day 2120, another view from my window.

Day's pictures, Poetry

The dark air stayed behind

when I closed the door

of the kitchen that already smelled

like the meal I will make


I opened the door

to the living room where the sun

still lit

a warmth that slowly left

cold glass

the earth turns


I stared at it

the colors that are left

without feeling

the motion


the smell from the kitchen

lured me away

I can soon sit down

and rest



Day 2115, view from a view from my window.

Day's pictures

I love reading letters written by people I admire like this example written by Friedrich Nietzsche to his good friend Peter Gast; it humanizes these people from who you normally only read the best they can produce and not about their daily lives. This comes out of a book written in 1921 by Oscar Levy, who translated a lot of Nietzsche’s work when it first got known outside Germany. You can read the book on, this letters starts on on page 139.


Sils-MaIaria, end of August, 1881.

But this is splendid news, my dear friend! Above all that you should have finished! At the thought of· this first great achievement of your life, I feel indescribably happy and solemn ; I shall not fail to remember August 24, 1881 ! How things are progressing ! But as soon as I think of your work I am overcome by a

Day 2111, from my window 11.

Day's pictures

The world is slowly turning, but I can still see the remainder of this beautiful sunset when I look over my shoulder. 

Essays, Of custom, and that we should not easily change a law received.

“My perfumed doublet gratifies my own smelling at first; but after I have worn it three days together, ’tis only pleasing to the bystanders. This is yet more strange, that custom, notwithstanding long intermissions and intervals, should yet have the power to unite and establish the effect of its impressions upon our senses, as is manifest in such as live near unto steeples and the frequent noise of the bells. I myself lie at home in a tower, where every morning and evening a very great bell rings out the Ave Maria: the noise shakes my very tower, and at first seemed insupportable to me; but I am so used to it, that I hear it without any manner of offense, and often without awaking at it.”

Michel de Montaigne


Day 2110, from my window 9.

Day's pictures

Most people’s inner lives are hidden behind a mist, like the trees in this picture. We all have lost people we love in our lives, and for me, it has always been emotional, not only for the fact that you can never speak with them again but more so for all the stories that are gone, buried with them.

Because life to me is a relatively predictable event, I like to embellish my own history and spin a propper story for me to remember and give life some ground and meaning. We probably all do that one way or another. When my grandmother died, she took with her a whole life of experiences, and we were left with only hints to them; her life story was gone. It made me sad that life made her keep all these stories to herself and sad that I never properly tried to talk to her about it. Because, I ask you: what is life but just a few great moments and emotions you experience. My grandmother’s most significant moments and wisdom are forever gone, and I wished she had shared them so they could live on in me and others.

I see value in a life that makes sense and does not just pass by, as Socrates said years ago: “an unexamined life is not worth living.” An “examined” life can be told in a few sentences and given as a gift to your loved ones when your time has come.