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We’re all full of shit, aren’t we? Every embellished story we tell, every white lie we must back up with yet another and then another lie, every invented reality we see punctured by the need to see the neighbors at the post office or grocery store, every dream of a new life that falls to pieces when I open my eyes and see how surrounded by heavy stuff and judgy relatives I am. It is much easier to swim in the lake of shit and forget who I am for a few moments. Examined life, followed by denial? Or examined life, followed by despair? Or examined life, followed by surrender, opened eyes and opened mind. I think, therefore I am shit.

Many thoughts spring forth, and not all of them are shit. Thanks, Mike Essig !

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