Contrast leads to recognizing the nameless emotions, like acid leads to recognizing social constructs and norms and things you just have become deaf to. We had a grandfather clock when I was a kid that never missed a beat if you listened for it, but whose tone quickly faded into silence on the day to day. You become deaf to it, accept it.
Contrast, travel or hardship or whatever else, offers that lens up for personal use.
I only wish I had the motivation once I got home to carry out more of those contrast-driven revelations. Like you're your best self at 3am because you're safe from actually doing them. Sometimes what I'd give to be an insomniac - then again, I know plenty and I think they have similar problems. Wonder how it'd manifest for them, then.
Comfort is the death of passions. Contrast gives life a chance to reorient, to angle yourself differently and aim for another horizon. Maybe life is really meant to be a zigzag after all, with fewer straight lines.
Contrast, travel or hardship or whatever else, offers that lens up for personal use.
I only wish I had the motivation once I got home to carry out more of those contrast-driven revelations. Like you're your best self at 3am because you're safe from actually doing them. Sometimes what I'd give to be an insomniac - then again, I know plenty and I think they have similar problems. Wonder how it'd manifest for them, then.
Comfort is the death of passions. Contrast gives life a chance to reorient, to angle yourself differently and aim for another horizon. Maybe life is really meant to be a zigzag after all, with fewer straight lines.
Is it impossible to appreciate something without it always being in your palapable, deliberate attention?
This made me think of