Don’t worry Meno, I can work with what I’ve got/you sent…
Lol @ that description of Pope Francis… he wins hands down, on that basis alone… 
…he was a bouncer at a club 
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…also:
The Vatican’s reputation with science isn’t a good one, due largely to the well-known story of Galileo’s prosecution for his views on astronomy. (Also, for his penchant of openly mocking powerful clergy.) That’s pretty unfair, though, because for most of its history, the Roman Catholic Church has been an avid supporter of science, and many Catholics priests and monks have also been scientists. Gregor Mendel, the father of Genetics, was an Augstinian Friar. Georges Lemaitre, who developed much of the Big Bang Theory, was a Jesuit priest.
Accordingly, it was interesting to me to the newest Pope, Pope Francis, isn’t just a cleric. He’s also a scientist.
My vote? A woman scorned.
Sounds like an echo, of two fair maidens swan song, nemesis’ delightful message of retribution from eons ago. But why wear a narcissus on the sleeve, for such fairness deserves some form recognition, toward the other one , still recognizable, consciously, as it does start with him.
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…only you know what that means.
and even eye don’t
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Eye’d try to take a wild guess, but I don’t think I’m able to at this point…
¿the undecipherable… even to the author?
It’s as phenomenal and astounding,5that it boggles the mind,but I shan’t divulge what’s so skillfully hidden fl, but I been here since 2015, and even before, and came to see that it perhaps better left covered, let the dead rest.
Only a deranged person could make sense from paradoxes sifted through the sands of time elapsed, but the suceeding patterns leave no doubt. As far as the reality of plants surviving in the harshness of the punishing heat of the desert, only the Joshua tree can survive.
Yes, as to me, and that’s why I refreshed the data, less to my chagrin the more to the prosessing’s failure becoming endemic: we all are under the spell of deconstruction, may be only members of alien nations - alienations survive to empathize so others may begin to see the light that miraculously survive; re: mission impossible, well nearly
Whatever it is -which I shall revisit and re-read- is irrelevant… for it is in the past, and the past cannot physically become the present or the future, only the memories of it can.
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When I’m tired/descend into exhaustion, your posts are just words on a page, but when I have shrugged the exhaustion off and revisited your words they become sentences that now make sense, so…
Time elapsed can never be regained and surviving the unsurvivable is never out of the question… having experienced both as well, I would say “be proud” of who you now are and what you have become, Tourette’s/stutters/ennui and all. 
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Yes, and although honesty is not always the best policy, though, the hot sands of the desert eventually or, right at this moment unglue and melt all bounderies, albeit occasionally, and no shame needs access to that . Thanks MagsJ you are a special someone of whom I never can be disappointed, regardless the number of readings necessary.
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Incidentally one of my greatest experiences.> beings was spending lifetimes of moments in the Cafe d’Fleaur.
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Philosophy, through the gaze, of Jean-Paul Sartre’s ‘sanpaku eyes’…
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“One eyes lookin’ at you while the other eyes lookin’ for you.”
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In his explanation of the gaze in Being and Nothingness, Sartre describes the encounter of two strangers in a park. The moment that the strangers gaze at each other in the “convergence of two ocular globes,” Sartre, as one stranger, is aware that there is another “consciousness,” an “Other,”10 staring at him.”
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“The Look is a central concept in Sartre’s phenomenology. It is the exploration of the experience of being seen . You are a subject, but if someone gazes into you for a long time, you start becoming hyper aware of yourself as an object in other people’s views.”
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“Tonight I love you in a way that you have not known in me: I am neither worn down by travels nor wrapped up in the desire for your presence. I am mastering my love for you and turning it inwards as a constituent element of myself.”
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Such a thought^, from One that loves another, is enough to give One palpitations. 
Swoons… feels faint… needs to sit down
The feeling I got that the ghosts not only of Sartre, sitting there…
As, recounting this moment in time…:
These many phenomenal impressions, which, at the same time defined the consciousness entertained at that moment-
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Later:
You see, MagsJ, I really don’t know SARTRE THAT WELL, and have read ‘Being and Nothingness, except here and there
One thing though; in the phenomenal reduction which is so complex and simple at the same time, the phenomenal context I find myself, is less and less comprehensible, or it can be seen less and less comprehensible, I begin to feel as if I am incapable to recognize myself in the mirror, or maybe just out of sorts,
The hand attached to my arm seems unattached to my arm.
And ultimately it becomes detached. Such detachment I can not see anymore, because finally the orbital lenses suffer the same fate, they are no longer connected, not just to each other, so that they will not direct the gaze to a single object, but sight will not function in uniformity, and objects will blur, literally sight unseen will be the ultimate test of reality; l, like trying to see with eyes wide shut.
This is I think Sartre’s phenomenology gets to the feeling, the apprehension of understanding.
That I feel love feeling is all we got eyes shut, and with no recourse to what any signs or suggestion can mean at the end of being in darkness about how to slice it , that double together, with even a double edged nice.
Sure, short term it appears light, then another twilit era of being conscious of our own feelings . and we drop the ball again as Sysyphus tries to recapture that feeling over and over until he can be sure he’s got it for ever, But there is no forever at all, he is deceived, or is deceiving himself? There is only this here and now, That IS The Golden Eternity.
I accept not only lostness, for ever, but redemption as well.
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In the end in this eternity we live in, the fear and trembling, the palpitations, are only the preceeding relative quiet before the storm, where actually the question has to be asked , each to his/her to one’s self, is true love worth dying for?
That litmus test separates being True to one’s self, ant then the loved one and the lover will become an authentic whole, more just a wistful momentary passing fancy, but truly one in heart and soul.
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even if the loved one turns out to be nemesis, and hence forgives Narcisse for indulgance.
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I got the same feeling when first reading Sartre’s ‘Nausea’, too young at the time, and now know it’s the overwhelming feeling that true love hides, under the cover of darkness.
…and I know not of Sartre at all, from having never read him…
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…the thought of dying for it, yes… from the feeling that without that person, you too would die/to not be able to fully go on without them.
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Poignant… but such love should not be just relegated to the darkness, but to every waking hour of each day.
It SHOULD
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Those words☝🏼and that video, do not correlate.
Intentional?