(This is what happened)

Monday I was supposed to go to Nigeria, I walked down to the post office and my visa hadn’t arrived.

Tuesday I was supposed to go to Nigeria, I walked down to the post office and my visa hadn’t arrived.

Wednesday I was supposed to go to Nigeria, I walked down to the post office and my visa hadn’t arrived. (They called me from the embassy, said something was wrong with my invitation letter. I sent them a new one with a few words changed.)

Thursday I was supposed to go to Nigeria, I walked down to the post office and my visa hadn’t arrived.

Friday I was supposed to go to Nigeria, I walked down to the post office and they gave me my visa. I walked home and booked a flight, put the last toiletries in my hiking backpack and walked over the ice, through the snow, to the bus. 24 hours later I was in Nigeria. (I was supposed to be part of a conference that weekend, but I was too late. They had prayed though, that I would make it, even if it was just for the last prayer. And when the last amen rung out I was there. Everyone was so excited and I was the most happy.) (♥)

The world consists of ideas

This is something I feel like you’re ‘supposed to know’, and maybe I do in a way. Ideas, after all, are the beginning of everything. But I sat thinking about something on the bus today, the random sounds we make. Seriously, what even are words? Sure, we understand them, because our brain makes sense of them, but without that we’re just a bunch of creatures shaping our mouths differently. Or these letters. Lines and dots. We have a deal you know, when I write this, we have agreed what the words mean. If someone disagreed with you, or if everyone did, you’d be a lunatic drawing strange shapes and making weird noises without being able to reach anyone. It’s the same with money. Money doesn’t exist. It’s a freakin’ piece of paper. It would be as meaningless as any other dead tree if you wouldn’t think it symbolises some sort of value, or more importantly, if no one else thought so either. It’s something we know I suppose, but when I heard that ideas make up the world, I thought it was because they were the beginning of everything. An idea that then turns into something real, all that makes up the world. Maybe my mistake was considering just the things real. Ideas aren’t valuable because they come from sudden inspiration and result in something else, they’re valuable, because they are everything, they’re not the beginning, they’re just it. Things start with ideas, but systems are ideas. And systems are deals we’ve made in the hope of creating a better world, now we must all uphold them unless we want it to collapse.

Ego

I’m made of flaws, insecurities stitched together. I’m the most confident person in the world, yet people terrify me. I don’t trust them, I trust me, but I do not trust them to not judge me whenever I’m trying to make a joke or laugh too loud. It’s so beautiful being around people you love, and whom you know love you back. Still, I egoistically rejoice in the feeling of having people love you more than you love them. Simply because it’s an ego-boost. The problem of the world lies in us trying to fall in love with ourselves instead of simply being ourselves and falling in love with other people.