Why would a woman eat a cockroach? Why would Margiela make a gilet out of gloves? What does Heidegger have to do with all this? But, most importantly, how do I overcome this post-grad existential crisis?
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Life is filled with absences, with voids. Death is an alive concept that coexists in everyone’s daily lives. Pain, fear, anger, loneliness, madness, faith, vanity, melancholy. Libera Me evokes a sense of peace. With his Requiem, Verdi helps us understand the certainty that as long as there is death, there is life. In the end, it is worth living.
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For those of you who have ever wondered about the meaning of life (and who hasn’t?) plunge head first into the whirlwind of existentialism as we navigate life's uncertainties, oddities, and empty spaces. As we question the world around us to redefine purpose.
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Everyday we talk, we conversate, we communicate. Everyday we use words. Nevertheless, the symbolic language with which we express ourselves is a mere invention, and as such confined by our imagination. So, I wonder, if the words we use to communicate are bound to remain in limbo, why do we continue to talk obstinately?
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Superstition is deeply rooted in society. Knocking on wood and having lucky pens for exams are both examples of such irrational behaviors. Even if we know that such rituals may not increase the probability of our desired outcome, we refuse to give them up. Can we scientifically explain our irrationality?
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Oh don’t you hate the feeling of having a deep deep thought about the social and cultural state of the world while peacefully relaxing on vacation? Me neither, so go ahead and enjoy some words on customs and why we are so obsessed with them!
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You can never get younger, but you can stop being afraid of losing your youth. Ageism is old, you don’t have to be. Invest seven minutes of your life to find out why, and how, to maintain your youth.
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In the intricate tapestry of human existence lies a profound Japanese cultural concept: that of the three faces. One is outward, looking at the world, on is circumscribed, looking at our families, and one is unknown, looking only back at us.
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