philosophy
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Chapter — The Alphabet That Couldn’t Sing I tried to build words from an alphabet that was not my own. Spanish at home, English at school. The letters felt foreign, cold to the touch, like tools meant for someone else’s hands. The sentences they made were like conversations overheard through a wall—recognizable as speech, but…
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A Letter in the Spirit of Seneca My friend, You speak of freedom as the composer of your days—this is wisdom. But let us examine the score more closely. The blank page you cherish is ruled with invisible lines: the ledger’s demand, the body’s need for bread, the promises made when ambition outstripped the moon.…
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“In the beginning was the Word,” and boy, was it capitalized like it knew it was important! This Word isn’t just any word; it’s a symbol, a stand-in for everything from your coffee mug to your existential dread. Imagine, if you will, this Word was there before the thing it represents even existed. Like, did…
