Can you share a positive example of where you’ve felt loved?
Talk about framing a question.
Positive example of where you’ve felt loved?
Now read this:
Negative example of when you’ve felt loved?
Or read this:
Positive example of when you’ve felt unloved?
😉
A rectangular strip of time filled with some good serious light-hearted conversation is where I always feel loved. No doubt! And I have had plenty such.
It feels I communicate with NOTHING online most often.
That’s a strange sounding statement. Just as the question sounds actually. Strange.
‘In what ways…’
Well, I twist and wrench my words very often to communicate online. That’s the primary way.
The way I don’t communicate online is by not liking selfies, by not expressing birthday greetings to strangers, by not writing RIP upon looking at a death update… By not using such ways of communicating, I must be adopting a way of communicating that discourages people to ‘like’ what I write.
Basically, I do not adopt reciprocation as a way of communicating online. Yes, I think that is it.
I agree. Life spans surprise us with different segments, due age, or education or environment. So a mission should change with times. And not get stuck to one that was made in a different time much like Don Quixote’s obsessive fight against windmills.
I wonder why anyone would be interested in knowing the colleges I attended.
I attended a college to do my Bachelors in Commerce. I didn’t even question why the degree is title Bachelors!
Then I attended a college for entrepreneurship. You can’t undergo a systematic study of entrepreneurship to become an entrepreneur. That causation is very suspect to me.
And the I attended another college to study Marketing Communication. They do not have a course to create couplets there. Would you believe it!
Look, at this moment, it is to capture my idea in a rhyming, meter-matched couplet. Been going on days now and I am not yet close to crafting that couplet.
Motorcycling at certain times of the day, under certain kinds of lights, passing by certain spaces, and the scent, the scent, that scent held by the air around, sometimes carried by the breeze…
I just got the clutch-cable replaced and my motorcycle is sprightly again, as if my legs have resumed fast bowling… Sources of nostalgia are strange I tell you.
Finding a good book makes me most happy. But hold on, it isn’t that simple.
It is a sequence of decisions.
I decide to browse titles on certain topics.
Certain titles pique my interest, so I read the descriptions.
Then I sample the book with the most interesting description by reading the first few pages.
I really look forward to the first few pages, usually called preface or introduction. Those first few pages, if they rivet me, I know picking the book up was a great decision. And that really makes me happy.
It’s always this thing in my case. And it is not the last thing because it is a repetitive thing, almost every morning. So, I repeat the last thing I might say.
Browsing titles of books triggered by certain words. Sampling. And reading. In between, writing here.
I’ve been trying to develop my skills of digging, burrowing and sliding into the rabbit hole of newsletters. I have taken some steps. Lesson is, the variety in software is no less than variety in fashion-wear.
Also I’ve been trying to develop the skill of staying away from scrolling on my mobile phone, especially the Youtube feed. Made some headway there.
There’s more but tell you what, at this moment, writing the journey of my skill-development is quite boring. Walking the path is not so boring.
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