We exist in 3 dimensions, but only move in 2.
We exist backward and forward, left and right, and up and down. Just have another person stand still and check them out.
But, in normal travel, we only go left or right, and forwards or backwards. (If anything, 2.5 dimensions, unless you back your car up in very odd amounts.)
Our cars do not fly yet, so we don't regularly go up and down.
I don't know, I just found that very fascinating. It hit me on the bus, watching another car travel while traveling.
I find a lot of things fascinating.
:;,

I just find it so funny
Bravery and stupidity are so synonymous, but I don’t think they should be
Bravery is supposed to be noble. Knights are brave, cowboys are brave, heroes are brave.
Stupidity is supposed to be…well…stupid. People who cut off 18 wheelers on the highway are stupid, that guy who jumps off a second story roof into a pool (me) is stupid, jesters are stupid.
But can't you switch them?
Knights can be stupid for charging a dragon. Cowboys are stupid for shooting in a street, not to mention the slower cowboy is definitely stupid, heroes can be stupid (Percy Jackson).
People who cut off 18 wheelers can be brave, would you do it, with those butterflies of fear in your stomach? Isn’t that guy pretty brave for jumping two whole stories into a pool, when no one else would (I think he is)? Jesters can be brave.
So, are they synonymous?
And, if you think they are
Should they be?
:;,

I don’t think my parents have ever understood me
And as it is, you may already misunderstand: this isn’t emo, or angsty or anything like that
I just think my parents don’t really get why I do the things that I do. They don’t understand my point of view or my way of looking at life or my approach of life.
My dad is always business-y and task minded: make a list, check it off. He goes with the flow, but within that list. And if my dad were the sun, my mother would be the moon, as she’s a perfect, but less bright reflection of him. She just kinda says what he says, holds his point of view as her own, and basically just absorbs his words and spews them back at him.
I’m my own person, and that’s why, I believe, my dad is disappointed in me. I'm not the type of man he is, not even really a man at all, but nonetheless. I'm not who he wanted me to be, but I am my own person, and I'm proud of me, I guess.
I'm not even who I wanted to be. I remember being a little kid, and my vision for myself was a lot different than how I turned out.
But I think I turned out better than those fantastical visions.
Yeah. Just maybe.
:;,

I've been thinking about ambivalence a lot lately. And I’m still not sure what to think about it.
Because it’s basically inner conflict towards someone or something, but then, what does that mean?
It means you feel positively and negatively about someone or something, you want to react positively and negatively towards something or someone.
Usually, there’s an or between positive and negative. Ambivalence, I suppose, causes misinterpreted balance, by replacing the or with an and.
And it’s misinterpreted due to ambivalence being connotated as torn or uncertain. But, I think ambivalence is a good thing: it shows more than one approach to something, more than just one point of view offered from one person; an open mind, I suppose.
I think of ambivalence in the context of an ambivert. An ambivert is an introvert and extrovert in one body, one person that is both outgoing and reserved at the same time. To be an ambivert is to be special, unique, even revered. And I think that’s how ambivalent thinking ought to be seen: not as something negative, not torn thinking. Something positive.
Balanced thinking
:;,

The thing about life is I don’t think there’s just one overlaying statement for all of humanity
We ask “Why?” but I don’t think we realize that, truly, out of nearly 7.4 billion people, there cannot possibly be an answer as to why we all exist. There cannot be one simple statement to define the reason as to why every single person of this race, our race, exists, because everyone has a different reason for it.
Or maybe that’s the answer
Maybe the answer to “Why?” is “Because there are 7.4 billion different reasons.”
Maybe it’s just that everyone has their own answer to why.
I remember I used to think that the reason we all existed was because the only other option was to not exist. But I think it’s not that simple, modern humans aren’t so primitive and instinctual anymore, our sixth sense has been forgotten somewhere, dormant in our genes, our very DNA.
The most modern **** species, **** sapien sapien, is a far more mentally evolved being from the first **** species. And because of that, our reasoning for living has evolved with us. There are, indeed, 7.4 billion answers to “Why?”, but I think that’s the overall answer for our species.
“Why?” “There are 7.4 billion reasons. Mine is __.”
Nonetheless, life is a beautiful thing. Find your reason.
And, maybe, just maybe, make it something a little more than existing just because the only other option is not existing.
:;,

Some people are artists
Some people are art.
Others have the miraculous blessing to be both
Others are cursed to be neither
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In the beautiful words of John Marcus:
“Sometimes words are a little too hard to catch. They flit and flutter all over the place almost impossible to catch, taunting and teasing me with the worlds I could create.”
And the last part caught my attention, upon reading it. “…taunting and teasing me with the worlds I could create.” Cause I've written a novel, and currently I'm writing its sequel, and I essentially created a whole world. A whole global history, a whole global culture, a whole everything on a global scale. George Lucas, that literal genius, created a whole galaxy, far, far away, along with Martin Goodman creating a whole universe, Gene Roddenberry created a whole world on the USS Enterprise, JK Rowling created the Wizarding World, Angie Sage created one of my favorite worlds, the world of a seventh son of a seventh son with a name with seven in it.
Writers, in their own genius creativity, write worlds into existence, cover to cover, create them and steer them in a beautiful direction: forward.
And then I remembered. God created man and women in his image, and God literally spoke creation into existence, and the Bible recorded the event into literary immortality. So if God spoke (literally) everything into existence, and we fall short of His Glory eternally, then couldn’t we create worlds? Not, like, literal, physical worlds, but maybe a literary world, like authors do?
A world you could get just as lost in?
And words, words, the beautiful creation of the written form, constantly taunt and tease me, they challenge me, they call out to me to keep creating and writing worlds into existence. But we don’t need to write worlds into existence to make our words amazing: even I myself have written small phrases, not just worlds, but sometimes even the smallest things have the biggest impacts. (IE, my toddlers.)
(John Marcus has a beautiful mind, seriously, it repeatedly blows mine away. Keep doin your thing, dude.)
:;,

And I felt your happiness
        And I felt your pain
                And I felt what you felt
        But I didn’t feel your emptiness
And you didn’t either
                                                               :;,