And that takes effort

On Tuesday I woke up at 5 am, flew to Poland, spent the day with my family, went out 10pm and got back at 3am.

I live with my guard up and there are very few people nowadays with whom my defences are non-existent.  Two of those specimens knew me long before I screwed up my mental health and have witnesses much more of my experiences than anybody else.

We bought the cheapest wine and proper glasses. And chocolate scented candles. Arrived in the most beautiful place on the Earth. Watching shooting stars but the side of a lake, talking.

Talking about how death of family members affected us and how resilient human beings are. And how we all almost achieved something.

My First admitted things that happen to me to be more often than not hardly believable. My Best Friend  pointed out that’s just because I look for/engineer them myself.

We were envious of all those simple folk drinking beer from cans on their sofas, whose needs are met by watching Euro. Not bothered about aftermath of dying or Brexit or living to their fullest potential.

We needed the candles and glasses, we needed the clear reflections of the stars in water. We needed to spice up our time on this planet with a little awesome. Sacrificed time and energy on turning that situation so.

Of course there’s an argument of us avoiding the boredom stuck in the middle of nowhere, but that could be resolved with any tv show.

Killing the boredom wasn’t the point. The point was to satisfy our aesthetic and intellectual needs. And that takes effort.