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I don't, actually..... I just sit with the absurdity of it all... nd yes, with my ass.
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Repost from N/a
Trust is a ceremony performed by people
We talk about the things we rely on as if they were laws of nature. The bank will hold our money. The bridge will hold our weight. The institution will keep its word. We assume they're solid because they look solid. But behind every one of them is a human act. A decision made by someone. A signature given by someone. A detail checked, or not checked, by someone at the end of a long day.
Everything we trust has its ceremonies: the oath, the inspection, the signature, the handshake, the stamp of approval. Like any ritual, a ceremony gets its power from everyone believing it was performed correctly. Most of that belief is never examined. We give it automatically, every day, to people we will never meet and processes we will never see.
And when that belief turns out to be misplaced, the system rarely saves itself. People do. Someone looks closely enough to notice that something doesn't add up. A few people decide it matters and act before it's too late.
I find that both frightening and hopeful. The trust holding our world together is far more fragile than its polished surfaces suggest. But it is also more open than we assume. So often the truth sits in plain sight, waiting for anyone who bothers to look. Anyone, from anywhere, with enough curiosity and courage, can be that person.
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Today, an orange made me want to live. It was warm and sweet, and for a moment I needed no reason to exist. The body made the case on its own: stay.
An hour later, I found a cat on the road, hit by a car. Her blood was the same blood that runs beneath my skin. Under fur or skin, we are built on the same fragile wager.
I never knew where she was going or whether anyone waited for her. Death takes not only the life but every answer about it. I buried her. Then I walked on.
That is what stays with me. Not the ending, but the continuing. Cars kept passing. Somewhere, someone was eating an orange. The world did not pause for her, and it will not pause for me.
Everything ends, and everything goes on anyway. We bury the dead and buy groceries. This is not betrayal. It is how a finite creature survives endless loss.
But moving on is not the same as not caring. She mattered, though I knew nothing about her. Value does not depend on witnesses.
The orange mattered too. Its sweetness was real. Her death was real. Neither cancels the other. To be alive is to hold both in the same hand, on the same afternoon.
The universe does not arrange oranges to console us or roads to punish cats. It simply happens to all of us at once. Our task is to notice.
Tomorrow, if an orange tastes good, I will want to live again.
And beneath that wanting, I will remember her.🤍
Wrote it last time and recorded it
