Missing
Of all the things I've lost,
I miss my mind the most...
Edit: I thought about this in Turkish, but Mark Twain said it years ago. It's an honor to share the same minds as a humorist from the 1800s.
imperfect "perfect loops"
We are trying to find our own selves among the selves that are thrown around by the manipulation of the decision mechanism. We are manipulated, we manipulate, we manipulate ourselves. In the sea of infinite possibilities, we walk every path but our own. If we choose to walk our own path, we are isolated. And then we turn a blind eye to manipulations to conform. As we move away from ourselves, we become unhappy. The closer we get to ourselves, the lonelier we become. The infinite possibilities created by the sum of these imperfect "perfect loops" make us unique in theory. But in practice we are all the same ordinary human beings.
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