
Truth is inside, Truth is the path
Where is happiness? Not in your phone, your paycheck, or a pretty girl. Stop Running. Stop Chasing Ghosts. Look inside. That’s where the real stuff, whats really matter.
Where is happiness? Not in your phone, your paycheck, or a pretty girl. Stop Running. Stop Chasing Ghosts. Look inside. That’s where the real stuff, whats really matter.
Below is a concise list of the core “aha” moments (epiphanies) and novel insights from the podcast between Curt Jaimungal and Jaboc Barandes, arranged from more conventional observations (lower originality) to the more radical, cutting-edge ideas (higher originality). Each bullet summarizes the key idea or message in brief. (1) Standard
El amor no es un laberinto en el que uno se pierde: es el laberinto a través del cual nos encontramos.
This is the answer, but it is also the beginning of a never-ending journey of exploration and understanding—a journey that we undertake together, forever seeking, forever learning. I asked ChatGPTo: What is the deepest meaning of this text? "Skeptical argumentation, as exemplified by thinkers like Sextus Empiricus and
The Future is Non-Ergodic, uncharted: (of an area of land or sea) not mapped or surveyed. "these are unchartered waters" ...the average outcome for a group is not necessarily the same as the average outcome for an individual over time What Does Non-Ergodic Mean? In simple terms, ergodicity
“Truth Revealed” In the past, big organizations could wrap their deeds in fine stories, confident nobody could see through them. Suddenly, everyone sees the hidden truth. It’s a reminder to question what we’re told. “Old lies crumble” New tools spread facts faster than ever. New Technologies, Artificial Intelligence,
Can we do anything? We grow up imagining we can do anything, then discover real limits. Even with limits, we still choose how we act and what we focus on. This choice is at the core of free will. Freedom doesn’t mean “no rules” From childhood, rules and expectations
We walk through labyrinths of glass, each bubble reflecting only its own infinite images. The city stretches before us like a mirror maze, where every passerby glances without truly seeing. If you stand still long enough, you can sense the isolation pulsing like a secret heartbeat: a silent terror that
Paseamos por la ciudad sin detenernos en las caras que se cruzan con las nuestras. Cada quien arrastra su propia historia, y por lo general, preferimos ignorar la del otro. Tal vez sea una forma de protegernos de un dolor ajeno que tememos no saber manejar. Sin embargo, esos ojos
We wander the city without truly pausing to observe the faces that brush past our own. Each person bears a private history, and by habit, we choose to ignore the stories of others—perhaps to shield ourselves from a pain we suspect we cannot endure. Yet in those eyes, which
Dans le silence oppressant de la maison, je perçois à peine le bruit des pas de l’autre, de cet être qui partage ma vie sans vraiment m’accompagner. Nous sommes ensemble, dans un même espace, et pourtant rien ne se rejoint plus vraiment. Cette solitude à deux, au cœur
En algún confín del Pacífico, más allá de las rutas de navegación y del escrutinio de las cartas marinas, habita un náufrago que creyó descubrir la riqueza definitiva: un cofre lleno de oro y diamantes, supuestamente olvidados por piratas de leyenda. Los metales y las gemas relucen en su cofre
Inspired by Jorge Francisco Isidoro Luis Borges Acevedo, kurz Jorge Luis Borges [ˈxorxe ˈlwis ˈβorxes] ( 24. August 1899 in Buenos Aires; † 14. Juni 1986 in Genf) @fergmolina imagined the Library of Ethbel, He quoted: Nada hay menos material que el dinero, ya que cualquier moneda (una moneda de veinte centavos,
In a world awash with misinformation and deceit, one must wonder: how much truth can the current state of the world tolerate? We are submerged in a sea of lies, where each uncovered falsehood generates tension and pain for those who have placed their trust in them, only to discover
They say there’s no “good” way to die—but consider this: laughter as the ultimate send-off. In the grand scheme of all the possible exits—slipping on banana peels, choking on chicken nuggets, spontaneous wormhole relocations—meeting one’s demise while howling with glee seems downright glorious. Think of
Intro: Let’s be real Judging someone’s intelligence by their skin color is plain ridiculous. Skin color basically comes down to how much melanin you’ve got—a trait shaped by a handful of genes and centuries of sun exposure in your ancestors’ homeland. In other words, living in