Two weekends in a row, I ventured out to the field of snow encircled with dark shadows of pines with two different friends. The serenity surrounds you with contemplation. The company creates simple feelings of intimacy, lucid because of the serenity of everything else,  The communication requires coherence, and stops the contemplation going loose, as well as allows one to receive new ideas. This list of why it's nice makes it sound like a beautiful experience, but it's ridiculous in practice. Every step is a win or a stumble, wind is cold, snow is cold, socks are wet, and it is ridiculous, ridiculous and ironic. Sort of funny.

'Even when I was very young, I always thought of... there is just, no meaning to life! ...so I should just have fun, be happy.'

The irony of existence, I talked about it, simple idea I found also close to my heart, and my brain was suspicious if there isn't anything more behind the one-line summary, wanting for the chance to intellectualize.

'... and I hope I can do it well. Like, I like it a lot, but will it- will I-'

Are you worried that your love will die away?

An object that we set as a central objective, that we decide as, not the purpose or meaning, but content of our existence, could die in our hearts. Passion isn't everlasting.

'I think it's like a candle, it burns but it burns out. I used to think that when it does, it leaves a great aroma which is beautiful in itself. That logically made sense but it didn't do anything but conceal the longing for what has gone before,' the joyful inanity. 'So passion is great, and you know, if you have love for it enough, I think we live in a world that there's enough stimuli everywhere and accessible.. so you can rekindle it so easily, if not move on.'

'Do you guys think that, art and artists could have progressed to this point, as a whole, if we didn't give them deadlines? Some people just did it because they just needed to, they could, and wanted to. But collectively, I feel like without patrons and deadlines, we may not have gotten to where we are. We're lazy things sometimes, you know? Also, that moment of urgency definitely would have stimulated some sort of creation, distinct in itself-'

By creating responsibility (which usually also gives us some remuneration), do we suffocate the passion, or barely suscitate it? They don't seem to be opposed, necessarily. Maybe the final calculation is just down to happy and unhappy-

Mothagesso.