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All self-images are false

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All self-images are false. None of them match you. Any image that you’ve ever had of yourself, mental or visual, has been wrong.

That’s because an image is not a person. An image is an image, made of something totally different and vastly simpler than what people are made of. Images are made of things like pixels, or light, or even just thoughts, or all three. People are not.

At best images are crude symbols of real people, and they represent the real thing about as well as an ink-dot on a map can represent Los Angeles. Yet somehow we confuse our self-images with ourselves all the time.

Here’s an unexciting photo I took of my image, in the bathroom just now. 

So where am I in this picture?

Your first impulse might be to say the figure in the mirror, pretending to act cool and disinterested. But clearly, from that perspective, I can’t be on the other side of the mirror, four feet into the wall, because that would put me in my neighbor’s apartment.

I have to be on the near side of the wall, certainly. Nearer than every one of those bathroom details. Remember, I am the one taking the picture. Closer than the mirror, closer than the shower curtain. It has to be zero distance, really. So you actually can’t see me in the picture, just as I couldn’t see me as I took it.

In fact, I am always the viewer, the picture-taker. Every moment I’ve ever lived that’s been true. So I always have to be on the near side of every object I see, closer than the closest speck of dust that floats in front of me. I’m always zero distance from myself! You are always zero distance from yourself.

Images, on the other hand, are always at a distance — either physically in the case of visual images, or chronologically in the case of mental images.

Life is lived from zero distance

The humble question of “What is the self?” can lead to long, masturbatory discourses, and I’ll try to steer clear of that here. But it’s a good question with real-life implications and I think we have a mistaken idea of the answer.

We tend to think of ourselves as our bodies, part of which is the brain and all the things it does. That, plus the story of ourselves: how we got here, what we are good at and not good at, what we own and don’t own, and how we feel about the apparent state of our life stories.

All those details change constantly though, and eventually give way to something else. Our bodies certainly do that. They grow and shrink, shed and regenerate, rot, dry up and blow away. Your body is only the same “thing” throughout life on the conceptual level.

So the figure I see in the mirror, and all the peripheral thoughts that it triggers — how I feel about that guy in the mirror, what I like about him and don’t like about him, what I expect will happen to him, what I wish had happened to him earlier — all that changes. It can be different at any given time. The impression I have of that image today is different to some degree from any one of the other thousands of impressions I’ve gotten from looking at him over the last thirty years. I find a different self-image every time I look for one, and that means none can be trusted.

The only thing that hasn’t changed is whatever is looking at that figure in the mirror.

So what’s doing the looking? The logical part of my mind — the bespectacled accountant-type who crunches the numbers tirelessly but never ponders their significance — figures the image in the mirror is the same thing that’s on this side. It thinks an object of similar proportions must be what’s doing the looking. Of course, that object has many wonderful qualities that aren’t visible from the image, but it is still just a thing, an animated stick of meat with a nice smile and big hopes, just like on the other side of the glass.

The other part of my mind, the intuitive part — the part that knows by direct experience, rather than concludes by pattern and association — understands that the figure in the mirror isn’t me. It’s an isometric mockup, an unreasonable facsimile, dumbed down a thousand-fold from my direct experience of myself as the observer of that moment.

If I suspend preconceptions about who I’m supposed to be, in that moment (and in every moment) I appear to be a clear, boundless frame that contains not just that whole figure, but the mirror and everything else it contains, along with the good half-bathroom that contains the mirror, not to mention its complement of sounds and reverberations, its unique, uh, scents, and some Radiohead playing from somewhere. And thoughts. Invisible, fleeting, chaotic, but definitely there and definitely real.

No matter what the scene, I’m what’s watching it. That’s the sole common thread in every experience I’ve ever had: that I’m experiencing it. Nothing else has stayed the same. Everything else is content. All that passing stuff is the show, I’m the stage.

None of the details are you

The beholder of all this stuff, which must be me, of course has no real details of its own. It’s empty. Details pass through it and leave it clean. Even the lanky, occasionally smelly mass that I think of as my body still can only be described as changing scenery. It’s changed over the years and I have reason to believe it will break down and begin to fall apart one day, all while I look on.

Thoughts, too, come and go, and I can watch them do that. So they can’t be me either, or I would have forgotten myself out of existence by now.

This is what it means to really experience yourself in the first person. You recognize that none of the details are you. Your body isn’t you. You can call it you, or even just yours, but you’re only going to be able to make an arbitrary claim that you wish were true — ultimately, it’s unenforceable. The universe won’t really respect your claim. It will take your body and what you believe are your possessions from you one day anyway, no matter how attached you are.

When you cut off your fingernail (perhaps to be found later on a hotel bedspread by horrified subsequent guests) is it still you? Or is it a part of the outside world? Wasn’t it always?

I know that the real me is the one who’s looking at that guy in the mirror with the Beatles shirt. The one for whom the counter is not reversed, the one who can look down and see Abbey Road upside down rather than backwards, legs pointing toward the top of the frame rather than the bottom, as they do in the mirror and (allegedly) in the eyes of others.

Where am I in this picture? Am I in that dull 4×6 print? Am I the crooken horizon of cotton garments with two black sock-obelisks rising in the distance? The hand? The Reagan-era floor tiles?

No matter what impressions I get of myself from other people, photos, and mirrors, I’m always the one doing the looking.

The sky is blue, but you knew that already

Like all talk on this particular topic, whether it’s in religious language or not, it will confuse most, mislead some, and click a light bulb for a few.

It’s hard to talk about this idea of experiential knowledge, or “intuitive knowledge,” because we tend to think of intuition as some kind of hunch — an emotional lean towards one of many possiblities. But that’s not it at all. Intuition is direct, subjective knowledge of an aspect of the present moment — knowledge by direct contact with the experience.

Knowing you plan to be awake at 9am tomorrow is conceptual knowledge, thinking-based knowledge. Recognizing that you are awake right now is intuitive knowledge.

Intuitive knowledge is experience, and conceptual knowledge is thinking that has you convinced that something is true outside your present experience. Both are useful, both can be fairly called knowledge, but they’re completely different.

Picture this: someone is dying to convince you that the sky is blue, and he’s got all kinds of proof, in charts, accounts from others, data on wavelengths of light and solar refraction, and swears he has no personal bias in the matter. He knows it’s true because the data could allow for no other possible conclusion.

But he’s never been outside.

You are outside, and the truth is plain to you, and it makes the idea of proof absurd.

Over and over again, in almost every spiritual path or philosophical venture into the matter, at the end of the day the “self” is found to be simply the awareness of experience itself. And that awareness itself appears to be nothing, with stuff happening in that nothing. You can look and look and look for some thing at the centre of your experience, some it, some indivisible billiard ball of an object that things are happening to, but you’ll never find it.

You can agree or disagree with that, and it makes no difference. Belief or disbelief in that assertion amount to the same thing, because it’s applicable only to your own first-person experience, so there’s no communicable evidence. You can’t learn if it’s true that way. Yet it’s absolutely possible to experience yourself that way — as consciousness, as capacity for detail.

Nonduality, being “one” with the universe, being God, emptiness, and all other seeming mumbo-jumbo talked up by hippy-dippy types and celebrity gurus — for all their fluffy pseudo-spiritual connotations, these phrases are perfectly reasonable attempts to describe the implications of what it’s like to realize who you really are. It’s accessible, entirely non-denominational, and entirely un-super-natural, but can’t be gotten at with logic, rhetoric or science. Those who depend on those tools alone will miss it.

I will recommend the works of the great Douglas Harding until the day I die, because I’ve never found anyone who’s better at using the english language to direct people to have that experience. Read On Having No Head. Or poke around here.

And I don’t mean to characterize it as something exclusive or even particularly spectacular. Just something refreshingly sensible, with astounding implications. Like Robert Beatty always says, “People always expect it to be like a great Tadaaaa! Like Vegas or something.”

Whether you’ve experienced yourself as emptiness (or whatever), or you haven’t but want to, or you think it’s all a bunch of bullshit, “All self-images are false” is a worthy mantra to remember. It supplies a dose of sense and perspective whenever you feel anxiety over one or more of the details of whichever self-image you happen to be preoccupied with in a given moment.

Whatever it is about your image that dissatisfies you is a transient detail within your experience, and you can come to terms with it much the same way as you come to terms with transient details of the outside world — bad weather, political strife, high gas prices. They’re the same thing, and to know that alone is a relief.

If you adopt that mantra, you’ll gradually begin to see the image in the mirror less as yourself, and more like a living scuplture that you’re pretty fond of. You’ll always want to trim it here and there, both its physical appearance and the story surrounding it. You’ll feel good when it looks good or when you add something to it, feel bad when it looks bad or when part of it breaks or withers, and it will never look or feel quite right for very long.

But the drive for perfecting it will gradually a) lose its feeling of supreme importance, and b) reveal itself as impossible anyway.

Once you really see it, the corollary to “All self-images are false” is inevitable, and now I can’t brush my teeth without thinking of it:

You are always on this side of the mirror.


All photos by David Cain. Original photo of David with brown hat taken by Bonky Rogers.

Adelina February 27, 2012 at 8:11 am

“I am nor This or That”- arriving at the solution to the problem of the Ultimate Reality. Did {I} read this or was something else?

David February 27, 2012 at 9:33 am

Yes, you read it. Didn’t you? The word “I” is always going to refer to multiple things — not just our real-time first-person experience but also third-person images of who we are. It’s embedded in our language and we have to remember that. Like I said, it’s not something to figure out with words, because then you can only ever get conceptual answers. The experience of recognizing yourself as an empty, first-person view (as opposed to a body, or a third-person story in your mind — two forms of content within that view) is the answer I’m referring to, and words can’t deliver it.

Charrmagn February 27, 2012 at 8:12 am

I love the article you have posted for us David…This is very inspirational…Thanks a lot!

Julie February 27, 2012 at 9:07 am

Thank you for a provocative post! What is about looking into a mirror that can bring about this unsettling moment of absence or out-of-body experience? Once I settled into the idea that I am the observer, now I spend too much time asking ‘Why? Why is this my experience? Why am I in this body, in this situation, in this life?’ In fact, it could be anyone else’s, but it’s mine and that’s more than a little disconcerting.

David February 27, 2012 at 9:41 am

Looking at a mirror gives you both a third person view and a first person view at the same time. Normally we’re completely preoccupied with the third person view, and so we identify with its details. The first-person view is completely different. It contains all the details — not just of the figure in the mirror but the mirror and surrounding room — but it has no detail itself.

It is weird that we’re there to see anything at all, but you don’t have to worry about the question of why, unless you want to.

Vilx- February 28, 2012 at 8:51 am

I think it’s just chance. Or dumb luck. Call it whatever you wish. But if you had ended in another body, you’d ask the same question. Ultimately there is no reason other than “it just happened that way”. It is however not easy to accept, because life kinda tends to lose its meaning – there is no Grand Plan, no great purpose for your life, etc. You just happened here. Oops. Good luck. But on the other hand it’s also liberating – it means that now you get to choose your own purpose! And that’s the difficult question…

Jeff February 27, 2012 at 10:42 am

David, I am a big fan of your blog. I feel this is the first article that I have read on it that kind of goes “over my head”. This frustrates me. I get the feeling that you are talking about something really big here but I am not ready to understand it. Is there a “Headlessness for Dummies” out there that you can refer me to?

David February 28, 2012 at 8:48 am

Hi Jeff. Well, like I said, the concepts in the article can only really hint at something — they can’t themselves convey the understanding I’m talking about. They can only really lead you to look further and have your own experiences. If it intrigues you, definitely order Harding’s On Having No Head. He is so good with the language, and directs you in physical exercises that trigger the kind of first-person revelation I’m describing.

I know that may sound mystical and weird.

The Good Luck Duck May 30, 2013 at 4:33 pm

David, thank you for this article. I recently hoped, in writing, for more talk of headlessness, and I’m happy to get it.

A friend sent me to Liberation Unleashed for more help, and it may be that it helps Jeff. Or doesn’t help Jeff. I find it important and utterly baffling, too.


Bruno Gonçalo February 27, 2012 at 1:31 pm

Hello David,

In my experience, the journey to knowing who I/we are was kind of jumpy to say the least. I’ve realised that quite often, and that’s just my opinion coming from my experience, we kind of have to let go of that which is not “It”. And that scares us, cause those images, ideas, illusions or wtv offer comfort, safety, stability to the mind, so we can go around our business in daily life. I went all the way questioning every single thing in my reality, denying that which is not, until only that which Is, was left. Sometimes I felt I would become crazy, going through the fear, but now I guess it was just the ego struggling to maintain the illusion. What I mean to say is: it takes some sacrifice (or even a lot, depends on context, level of attachment to illusion). Not to scare people away but just sitting on the couch staring at the laptop or having intellectual discussions on the net or with others about this just won’t do. Or maybe I’m completely wrong, maybe to some people it comes in those “tadaa” moments. It’s mysterious.

Maria February 27, 2012 at 1:47 pm

Great read. Additional example: How shocked and unbelieving people’s reactions are when the hear their recorded voices. Our minds keep telling us-“I don’t sound like that!”. Our understanding of who we are is always at odds with representation.

David February 28, 2012 at 8:57 am

I have finally accepted my recorded voice. I swear, the way my voice sounds in my head is so much cooler, I wish you all could hear it.

But I’d argue that the sound of your voice, whether replayed through a tape recorder, or heard live through your skull, is content just the same. To use the toenail analogy, the voice in your head is like your toenail when it’s still attached to your foot, and the recorded voice is the toenail you find months later when you’re cleaning under the oven. They can both be described as “you” in a colloquial way, but both are details of the physical world. They’re both instances of content within the first-person view that is you. If you are the capacity for detail, for phenomena, than no detail, or phenomena can be you.

Zack February 27, 2012 at 7:13 pm

Sweeet. I read some D.H. in “The Mind’s Eye.” The book had me spinning bro, it was crazy. Thanks for the eye opening post! Peace, from Texas :)

Devhonn February 28, 2012 at 12:39 am

This is really so sweeeeeet….I enjoyed reading this…Thanks for providing this awesome article David…

The Fuddler February 28, 2012 at 12:42 am

The humble question of “What is the self?” can lead to long, masturbatory discourses …

Actually, I don’t believe that’s quite true. You see, unlike many philosophical discourses, masturbation tends to be pleasurable rather than crushingly tedious, and it nearly always results in an unambiguous conclusion!

I’ve seen and heard lots of your-body-is-not-you kinds of arguments, but most of these tended to come out of the mouths of philosophy professors or evangelists. The upshot of these pronouncements seemed to be that none of us unenlightened ones will ever understand The Great Secret® nor will we ever get a crack at any of the really prime real-estate only minutes from the Pearly Gates.

Your article on the other hand is considerably more uplifting, not to mention easier to comprehend. Not to say that I can walk away from my computer screen a changed man. If only because it’s late at night and my brain is only running at 70% power, I’m going to have to take what you’ve written and think about it “in the background” as I get on with my day tomorrow.

David February 28, 2012 at 9:03 am

What I mean is reading or listening to someone else’s verbal masturbations is not pleasurable, and a lot of philosophical talk is pleasurable only for the one doing the diddling.

Glad I was able to sneak past your skeptical mind’s defenses while you were at 70% power.

Rusty Southwick February 28, 2012 at 1:47 am

I’m reading along about a dozen paragraphs into the article, thinking to myself, “How apropos I’d be listening to Kid A while reading something like this, because it really fits.” And then a few seconds later you namedrop Radiohead like a bombshell. It’s cool that I was on a recognition wavelength after the fact for one, but also that Radiohead knew it needed to be played before I started reading this. I haven’t listened to a Radiohead album in about three years, and I have a mild fascination with some of their work. Guess the time was ripe, eh?

This is clearly at least a three-reader. Once to chew on, then next time to swallow, and then once more to digest. Might even have to break it down further after that into the vitamins and minerals. Don’t move it — I’m going to be coming back to this.

Somewhere in some book I read how none of us have ever seen another person. We’ve only seen their shells, which is far removed from who they are. We see some manifestations of their emotions in their expressions and intonations, and in their choice of terms, their mannerisms, and such. But we’ve never really seen them. Maybe the naked man gives us the appealing illusion that we’ve uncovered something more than we really have.

This I believe was in response to someone saying they were going to miss not seeing someone for awhile, to which an astute person pointed out that we never really see anyone anyway, at least not yet in our present state of being. Or if we do, we can’t quite conceptualize it or identify it. But we do know with confidence it’s not the body proper.

To me, a good part of the article is rightly tearing down the litany of assumptions we commonly drape ourselves in, about appearances, about identity. It challenges our notion that that which is obvious isn’t so, staring reason in the face and winning. You’re saying a lot of things here that I’ve tried to articulate in the past but have drifted. I might not have ever said these things the same way, but I have an understanding of them when I come across them.

I also appreciate the nods to intuition, which has taken a beating in psychoanalytic thought and scientific reasoning the past few years, as if formal analysis and intuition somehow had to compete for one prize. We’re constantly being told that our intuition is unreliable and misleading, which it is in certain respects in certain applications. But the mistaken concept is that it is therefore unreliable across the board.

The presentation of your article goes a few extra levels down into profundity. I’m going to have fun peeling through the layers. Thank you for this well-designed exploration. I like how existential it is, and yet without an excess of flowery language. Your casual style is very much a welcome breath of fresh air. Bravissimo, Sir David…..

David February 28, 2012 at 9:21 am

“Somewhere in some book I read how none of us have ever seen another person. We’ve only seen their shells, which is far removed from who they are.”

That’s a great point. In fact you could say all images of others are wrong too. A person is something beyond any particular set of physical details. Way more than the sum of apparent parts.

“To me, a good part of the article is rightly tearing down the litany of assumptions we commonly drape ourselves in, about appearances, about identity.”

This is really the only hindrance to getting this. Who we supposedly are is drilled into us repeatedly by the way our language is structured, our photo IDs, our names, and the soaring stack of other informational details that supposedly constitute our selves. What we actually are would be extraordinarily obvious if it weren’t for this extreme amount of conditioned thinking that supersedes our experience of what we are.

a. February 28, 2012 at 3:53 am

Good post, thanks! Maybe it’s not even you doing the experiencing! Maybe it just experiences through you…

Dhana28 February 28, 2012 at 4:38 am

Very interesting facts! I really enjoyed reading your very looong blog.. You really made an excellent point here..

Ducky February 28, 2012 at 9:40 am

Hmm David. The ‘ self or consciousness ‘ that u talk about which is aware of experience we are having , is this different from person to person or are they same or they all kind of from the same source ( like different droplets of water of an ocean)

David February 28, 2012 at 9:51 am

Since I only have this one unchanging, inescapable perspective, I can’t be sure. But others describe the same thing — a first person perspective like my own. I’m going to assume that when you look down you see something like the last picture in the post: a body extending outward from your point of view.

As for the ’source’ of this awareness, I’m not going to assume. I don’t know and it would be distracting to speak with certainty about it. But because each of us has this same naked first-person experience, and because it has no details in which it can differ — all that can differ is the content passing through it — it really seems to be exactly the same thing.

Ducky February 28, 2012 at 11:50 pm

Interesting! i guess we are source itself .
So David , how did u achieve the headless experience? I have been trying for some time and kind of tired now .I just want to jump in totally and experience this thing.

Michael March 5, 2012 at 9:31 am

I think it’s actually pretty easy to figure out the answer as to what the source of the awareness is – well, maybe not completely, but at least halfway.

If we consider that everything in our lives is content save for the observer, which would be the self (and this includes thoughts, as well), then if the content of my life and yours were to be taken away, we’d both be left with one single thing: the nothing, with no qualities of its own.

Thus, if we assume the nothing to be the observant self, then my nothing is the same as your nothing, which is the same as the old lady down the road’s nothing. They’re all copies of one another.

This solves one part of the question – the remainder is where did the nothings come from. The original human being? The Big Bang? God?

Also, it might strike as silly to say this but I’m thankful that you related the way you see the world. It is only obvious to ourselves the way we are aware of the content, but no one actually talks about the way they see things to us. So we’re unable to prove others see the same until someone’s bold enough to talk about it, like you were.

Of course, there are other tidbits to this. Some people would argue that not all thoughts are content – some are truly yours and define what you are, your True/Higher Self, your Soul, etc. This would make the nothings have qualities and be different from each other, instead of verbatim copies of void.

And then some would follow solipsism and say that only their nothing is real, whereas everyone else’s is an artificial copy. But if we go down that road, there’ll be no end to it, at least not until we’re gone from this world.

Great reading, as always. It’s amazing how people we don’t even know can have such an impact on our thought content. It’s just a shame people can’t truly see each other. But then again, what would be the point, if you and the other person over there are the same as I am, when you take away all the details?

Steph in Berkeley February 28, 2012 at 12:11 pm

Sometimes it is comforting to become aware of I as separate from my body/image/things/thoughts. Sometimes it isn’t. C’est la vie.

But usually such thoughts reminds me of “joining you” lyrics—that great Morissette song—which usually manages to comfort me, more due to felt solidarity than a sense of true self-awareness.

Thanks as always for good thought food.

nrhatch February 28, 2012 at 2:37 pm

Terrific post, David.

Once we realize that who we are is independent of thoughts, feelings, and opinions, we are free to embrace our True Self.

When we know WHO we are . . . we know HOW to live. _/!\_

Mark Steele February 28, 2012 at 7:30 pm

Uh, okay. I’m following you all the way. Whatever we are aware of as the self, is an illusion, mutable, not subject to pinning down as permanent or even stable, and at least in some essential ways a chimera.

But in the end, what exactly is it that is aware?


;; Mark
We can’t direct the wind. We can adjust the sails.

Tom K February 29, 2012 at 12:57 pm

Au contraire, mon frere, I can direct the wind…here, pull my finger! :o)

Noch Noch | be me. be natural. February 29, 2012 at 1:24 am

that’s profound, what you said last, we are always on “this” side of the mirror. need to bear that in mind. we hold the key
Noch Noch

Ayie February 29, 2012 at 2:41 am

Hi David…You never failed to impress us and I really want to share this to my friends too…Keep inspiring a lot of people…

Alexandra February 29, 2012 at 4:08 am

This is fabulous post David!I actually have learned a lot from the information you have shared…Thank you for the inspiration you have provided us here…

Diane February 29, 2012 at 9:12 am

When I open my in-box and find a new Raptiude post I feel a surge of anticipation that (Yes!) today I will ponder and wrestle with my favorite topic — being human. Thank you.
Have you seen Jill Bolte Taylor’s TedTalk (book:Stroke of Insight)?
Do you think that her description of a complete “right brain” experience (due to stroke on the left) is similar to what you are talking about?

Arline February 29, 2012 at 1:13 pm

I should try this image false I want to experience for me it looks really good..

Hope February 29, 2012 at 1:51 pm

Very liberating read.

Murat March 1, 2012 at 7:54 am

I like such detailed reads to persuade the people with powerful arguments. As for me, I think we are just a moment in time, a blink of an eye as in a song by Anathema, prog metal band. I don’t care about my self image and everything is the same, happy non-sense :)

Erlin T. March 1, 2012 at 1:12 pm

I really love the way your write and you are such a cool guy. How should we know ourselves deeply? This post is mind-stirring. Like it!


Cindy March 1, 2012 at 1:40 pm

ahh…light bulb…the exact light bulb I needed today. Part of what makes me revere you is that your posts are SO undeniably timely. Religions have been started on less you know ;) The toenail analogy, although gross, is a perfect expression of the sentiment. Thanks for helping me navigate life. Oh, and I’m wearing my Beatles shirt today. See…timely.

Francinne March 1, 2012 at 11:47 pm

I loved the post you have here David…I hope you continue to inspire more people like me…

Jeff March 3, 2012 at 10:42 am

David, is it fair to say that we don’t know 99.9 percent of others as well? We see their physical shell, their expressed thoughts and feelings and we settle on those bits as being enough to “know them” and then we move on?

AnnaLou March 4, 2012 at 8:39 pm

Great job David! I am sure most of your post are always leaving a lesson to the readers…I am glad you have goals for us too….Thanks!

Brandon March 5, 2012 at 5:11 am

I think recognizing your self at a time doesn’t mean wrong, it just a kind of awareness in maintaining your image good and healthy…

Godspeedblueksy March 5, 2012 at 1:03 pm

Great book on the Buddhist topic of Emptiness (which you address indirectly):


Great blogs. Thank you for the inspiration.

Wynona March 5, 2012 at 11:51 pm

Very interesting post! I learned something new today. :) This only proves that when a person is beautiful/handsome on photos, he/she is the other way around in person. :)

Rose37 March 6, 2012 at 7:06 am

There are a lot of people who are not that photogenic in pictures but are very funny and a happy person in real life…

Rose37 March 9, 2012 at 5:55 am

Consciousness is about lifting up the confidence or pull down itself, its depends on how we will deal from it… Beautiful collection, you are handsome..

Lauren March 15, 2012 at 1:51 pm

What a wonderful, interesting, thought-provoking, and comforting article. :)

David May 30, 2013 at 4:29 pm

Wow, my old apartment was so ugly

Dustin June 26, 2013 at 10:15 am

Thank you for this gift. This made the light bulb appear for me. All the reading on this I have done so far has been worthless, compared to your writing. Maybe I never read the right book, but it seems like it never needed a whole book now.

Mabel July 4, 2013 at 8:02 am

“masturbatory”! I can die happy now, having actually read this word in an all serious existentialism related blog post. :D

Katfish July 26, 2013 at 11:18 am

Déjà vu..! The feeling when I read this article. Thank you for your insights, came upon them today and enjoying greatly!

SS November 29, 2013 at 3:28 pm

My kind of “chats”!. I feel related. I feel we are our guts, the response that comes from the very within and the inner coherence that doesn’t need to be processed, a natural one. Thank you!!

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