“An old friend of mine, a journalist, once said that paradise on earth was to work all day alone in anticipation of an evening in interesting company.” ― Ian McEwan, Machines Like Me
instead of asking:
how can i be more like them?
how can i be more like me?
how many versions of me do i occupy? where do they live? how do they grow? what will they bloom into? what rituals do they practice? how do they show care to others? what are they afraid of? what do they dream about at night?