Think Forward.
Julius Melien
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Julius Melien

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I've been searching for myself and I think I've haven't found yet. Writing is one of the ways that helps me, I believe.
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Stars and Sands 4196

Julius Melien, 22 d.
- Philosophy -
2.2 min read.
Today I can say without fear of being wrong that coincidences do not exist. Since I first became aware of my own existence, I have collected scattered and seemingly out-of-context events that, at the time, I could never have understood, given the randomness with which they presented themselves to me. Let me begin with my conviction that coincidences do not exist. When I was still a child, I was given an album by the band The Police titled "Synchronicity". I knew nothing about English and asked one of my mother’s cousins to tell me what it meant. She simply translated it into Portuguese, without explaining its meaning. I was satisfied with that answer and assumed it was the name of some kind of city. Later, that title would make perfect sense, because even before receiving that album, synchronicities were already happening to me. But what about the stars and sands? Where do they fit into this story? Well, I always watched many cartoons and films, and my favorites were those set in the desert. Cartoons like "Shazam"!, "The Arabian Knights", among others, truly captivated me. Those who have read my previous articles may have noticed that one of my passions is outer space. Therefore, it was only natural that films with this theme would deeply attract me. Then, for the first time on television, the film "Star Wars" was announced. I was thrilled, and on premiere day I was ready, sitting on the couch in front of the TV. The opening scene, with the Imperial ship pursuing the rebel vessel, was magnificent. And then, when the droids escape with the plans for the Death Star, where do they land? On the planet Tatooine, an entirely desert planet, and with two “suns”! A large portion of the story unfolds on that vast desert world. For my mind at the time, less than ten years old, how could I understand that a film about space battles, starships, and stations would spend so much time in a desert setting? I cannot explain it, but I absolutely loved it. Perhaps that explains why I later enjoyed the classic film "Dune" so much, a few years afterward. What surprised me was discovering that there was a film from which George Lucas had drawn inspiration, especially for the scenes on Tatooine. The name of that film is "Lawrence of Arabia". And there it was, another of my favorite movies. Continuing with the synchronicities, I learned about another film that was about to be released, called "Raiders of the Lost Ark". I do not even need to say where much of that film takes place, do I? As the years passed, the stars and sands were always with me. Until I discovered the books of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, all inspired by the adventures of the early days of airmail. At the recommendation of a great friend, I read a book called "La Ligne", by Jean-Gérard Fleury, which tells in detail how airmail began, initially departing from France toward countries in West Africa, such as the enchanting Morocco. With every page, I could feel the dry wind, the scorching desert heat, as well as the freezing nights of the deep night. Thus, just like the stars, the sands are elements that compose and cradle my imagination. All of this thanks to the power of reading and the appreciation of the art found in great films. Today, with more than half a century of life behind me, I can carry my desert within my chest. It can be an important metaphor for the great adversities we face, not to mention the profound inspiration of the forty days spent in the desert by the Master of masters, a great lesson for all of us who intend to follow His steps. The sands move according to the will of the wind, sculpting natural works, reshaping landscapes, and even crossing oceans. It is estimated that there are more stars in the universe than grains of sand on our entire planet. Probably so. Should I understand this comparison as yet another synchronicity before me? Stars and sands? I believe so.

At Night We Dream 5022

Julius Melien, 27 d.
Once I watched a film about Frédéric Chopin, whose original title is: "A Song to Remember", which in my country was translated as “At Night We Dream.” I believe that the nocturnes composed by Chopin, which are truly beautiful, stand as musical references of the Romantic period. His nocturnes are perfect invitations to meditation, as they sharpen our minds to reflect upon the mysteries of the night. It is no coincidence that many poets have long drawn inspiration from the night and its elements, whether it be a clear sky sprinkled with stars, the light and refreshing breeze that not only caresses us, giving us a sense of pleasure as it touches our faces, but also moves the vegetation, the trees, and hanging objects, producing characteristic sounds with truly calming effects, much like the sounds of nocturnal wildlife. Not to mention the principal element, present in so many poems: our natural satellite, the Moon. I consider myself a selenophile, for ever since I can remember, the Moon has cast a kind of spell over me. In my moments of greatest distress, a simple glance at it is capable of bringing me to a halt, producing a kind of “reset” effect, essential for gathering strength and continuing to face life’s adversities. And what about dreams? Well, on countless occasions, I have awakened in the middle of the night after a dream, sometimes good, sometimes troubling, and I would rise and go to the outdoor area of my old house. In the silence of that hour, I felt as though I could open a kind of channel to another reality, which allowed me to sense the presence of other beings I could not see, some benevolent, others not so much. Yet on one of those occasions, I was certain that someone was with me, assuring my safety. I even received, in thought, the following message: “Do not forget, I am here.” Perhaps that certainty encouraged me for a long time to explore those moments. I can say that I have moved between different realities in dreams, and even when awake in the middle of the night, I felt that I was still living an extension of what I had seen and experienced in my dream. So what, then, is the purpose of sharing these experiences now? Today I am certain that much of what moves me is based on the inspirations I draw both from these dreams and from the moments immediately after waking, when I meditate upon them. I am, by nature, a contemplative person. I spend much of my time admiring what the Creator places before me, and my dreams, and the meditations that follow them, are like fuel for my imagination which I have spoken of so often in other articles and will certainly continue to speak about. I say to everyone: cherish the night. It is full of beauty and mystery. It is in the night that we most often find calm, silence, and peace, and these are the best conditions for looking within ourselves, evaluating what we have done throughout the day, and preparing our bodies for rest and our spirits to soar, renewing our strength for a new day and new experiences.

Violence Against One’s Own Spirit 5373

Julius Melien, 29 d.
- Health - Philosophy - Realist -
2.1 min read.
I begin this article by asking: have you ever violated your own spirit? I believe you have. And what is this violence against one’s own spirit? Well, we know that we cannot, and should not, do only what we want. Based on Freud’s concepts, if we were to do everything we desired, without any “filter,” it would mean that only the id was operating, without any kind of restraint, and that would certainly bring serious and grave consequences to ourselves and to many other people. Therefore, no, we cannot and should not do everything and only what we want. On the other hand, there is the opposite extreme: when we do nothing that we want. This means we do only what others want us to do, inevitably causing frustration. And that is where the violence begins. Because by continuing in this way, we suffocate our desires, our perceptions, our opinions, until we reach the point of losing our essence, or at least feeling as though we have, since that essence becomes stifled and consequently forgotten somewhere, as if buried beneath many layers in our mind, as I mentioned in one of my previous articles, titled “Mental Archaeology for the Rescue of My True Essence.” For when that essence remains buried for too long, it becomes harder to bring it back, requiring an archaeological effort, metaphorically speaking. Every time we fail to express our opinions or refrain from doing what we want, for example, to avoid contradicting someone else and causing them frustration, we violate our spirit. This happens when a person exerts some kind of control over us, for instance, someone who, instead of wanting to hear our opinions, wants only to hear their own echoed from our mouth. That is what nowadays is called a toxic person. Over the course of a lifetime, by accumulating these feelings, we generate a very high price to pay, almost always beginning with mental health, which inevitably compromises physical health. Along with this comes the feeling that precious time, which will never return, has been wasted. Often it is possible to reverse the situation; however, scars will remain as records of that time, and unfortunately some losses may be irreversible, at least in this life. My advice to young people is that they do everything possible not to commit such acts, for I believe that some of these marks may be carried into whatever lies beyond this time here, possibly returning with us in our new chances on this dense plane. Believe me: most of the time we do not realize when we begin to erase ourselves for the sake of certain people in our relationships, whether professional, marital, parental, and so on. At a moment when we still do not truly see reality, it is very easy to give in, with the feeling that we are doing something to please the other person, which is natural and even noble, depending on the situation and the person. Some people do deserve such kindness, because they reciprocate in the same way, showing themselves to be good and worthy individuals. But unfortunately, others do not. These, often driven by some psychological disorder, or simply by selfishness or extreme immaturity, seek to impose their will without any embarrassment, always ready to criticize any action of the other, many of which are normal and intended to please. And we, by suppressing our responses, continue violating our spirit, which becomes a little more ill each time. I imagine the spirit feeling pain, which reflects in us as sensations of discomfort in breathing, tightness in the chest, along with sadness and disappointment. Therefore, be strong and never allow anyone to control your life. Be the owner of yourself and of your desires, of course, always maintaining ethics and being just.

The Darkest Hour in a Man’s Night 5874

Julius Melien, 1 mon.
- Realist -
2.6 min read.
I have experienced many kinds of emotions and feelings throughout my life which, by human standards, has not been a short one. Nowadays, life expectancy is much better than it was a few decades ago, which in a way encourages me, knowing that I may still have a good amount of time to accumulate more of those feelings and emotions I mentioned. And yet, like everyone else, I do not know how much time I have left before my mission in this dense plane in which we live is brought to an end. However, I can state without the slightest shadow of doubt that I have now reached the peak of my dark night of the soul. At this moment, I am discovering that we can always endure more adversity. When I thought I had reached an extreme situation, I realized that this “extreme” could stretch even further. I confess that what feels strange is that I am still able to withstand so much pressure, of course, based on my own experiences. My mind constantly pushes me to think that there are people in far worse situations than mine, but one thing is certain: each person knows their own pain. We should not measure who is suffering more, because even if we try to describe in the greatest detail what we feel, we will never truly be able to convey it to someone else. In the same way, no matter how hard someone tries to describe their pain, we will never be able to feel it as they do. That is a fact, even though our minds always try to comfort us, or even reprimand us, for complaining. Well, at least that is true for honest and fair-hearted people. All of this leads me to a reflection: how much pressure can a man endure? Frustrated initiatives, betrayals, lack of support from some of the most important people in his life, not only a lack of moral support, but often discouragement, a lack of faith in his attempts, especially in his intentions. It is deeply disheartening, because where you believe you will find a point of support, you discover a void, without even a single “edge” to hold onto, or that patch of vegetation at the edge of the abyss that could be your last resort to keep from falling. And yet, this man, without any clear explanation, manages to extract even more strength to keep going, almost as if he were squeezing a piece of stone and the smallest drop of water accumulated in its microfractures were to flow from within. And where does the strength come from to find this extra reserve of energy? Well, if we are speaking of a just and good-hearted man, that strength comes from the simple image of the most precious thing he may have built in his life, in my case, my children. It is enough just to look at them, especially when they do not realize that I am watching. In those moments, many things pass through my mind, and there is a true mixture of feelings, most of them feelings of love, but also feelings of concern, to the point of feeling a tightness in my throat, almost blocking the passage of air, and immediately a sensation as if I were lying down with a block of granite on my chest, which, besides hurting from its weight, further restricts the expansion of my chest, preventing me from breathing in fully. As it is often said, the darkest hour of the night comes just before dawn. In the same way, when a forest grows denser and more closed in, it means we are nearing its edges and about to find our way out. This is my moment. I still have enough strength to know that I must be, very likely, just a few moments away from the dawn, or having to open one last passage through the dense vegetation before finally leaving this forest. However, I cannot be hypocritical and pretend to be that super-confident person with unshakable faith, because we all have uncertainties, and when things truly tighten, you realize that merely being optimistic does not solve the situation. Only the one who feels the pressure truly knows it. No matter how good the intentions of those on the outside may be, there is no way to feel what the one in the eye of the hurricane is feeling. And in this case, the only thing left is to stay alive and continue searching for strength, I do not even know where, but it is almost like performing magic, knowing that most likely, the only support you will receive is moral support, because the material support you will have to produce yourself.

Eight Minutes in the Past 6761

Julius Melien, 1 mon.
- Philosophy -
1.2 min read.
Once, at the end of a cold afternoon, I sat facing the Sun, which would set in a few minutes. Out of habit, I looked at my watch and checked the time. Even though it was a cold late-autumn afternoon, the Sun was there, in a clear atmosphere, with very few clouds near the horizon. Then I remembered having read the account of an astrophotographer who, also on a cold afternoon, held his open hand out toward the Sun and was able to feel its energy in the form of heat. So I did the same, and it worked! I could feel its energy reaching me like a directed ray. At that moment, my mind involuntarily began to work and was taken over by the following thought: the Sun is approximately 150 million kilometers away from us. Light takes eight minutes to travel that distance, which led me to think that the light I was seeing had left the king star eight minutes earlier. Coincidence or not, since some claim it does not exist, and I am practically convinced of that, the moment the Sun disappeared beyond the horizon occurred eight minutes after I had checked the time. In other words, that moment had already happened at the exact instant I sat facing the Sun and extended my hand to feel its energy. I conclude, based on this personal experience, that a moment we imagine and that has not yet happened already exists, whether it is eight minutes from now, one week, four years, twenty-five years, or even at a time when we will no longer be here, at least physically, or inhabiting the current shell but another one. Therefore, seek your moments. Know that they already exist, and that certainty is your lighthouse to guide you to that moment which, once again I say, already exists! It is already ready somewhere, at some moment in the universe. I sought the moment of the sunset, which was eight minutes ahead of me. It does not matter how far away your desired moment is, it is there. Believe in this! Many times it is difficult, but believe it, because it is real.

Reflections of a Genius on His Imaginary Journeys Through Space 6299

Julius Melien, 1 mon.
- Society - Realist -
1.6 min read.
Greetings, inhabitants of the surface. This is Genius once again, speaking directly from my spacecraft. For several months now, I have intended to write this article. I thought a great deal before forming my opinion about the episode that occurred and the entire process that led to this outcome. I wanted to be sure before taking a firm and serious stance, especially since our society is facing an unprecedented crisis. Well, I believe I am now ready to speak about it. Society demands its punishments. I observed the events of October 28, 2025, in the Penha and Alemão complexes, in the city of Rio de Janeiro. I don’t know about you, but I understand that society asked for this. In fact, it has been asking for it for decades. How so? Through culture: music, cinema, television, especially soap operas, where, in one way or another, values completely opposed to what is right have increasingly and gradually been defended by people. For example, carioca funk itself arrived with a simple, gentle proposal, speaking of love, but little by little it took a very different path from its beginnings, eventually reaching extremely aggressive lyrics that glorify promiscuity and violence. It exalts men holding radios and pistols, portrayed as objects of desire for women who, at first, raise banners of empowerment, freedom, and autonomy, yet submit themselves to the rule of these marginal figures, drug dealers and extremely violent murderers. Yes, it is indeed paradoxical. It is the kind of thing that confuses the mind of anyone who is even minimally sensible. Well then, when this type of “culture” is valued, even with the excuse that it is just a joke, that the rhythm and the beat are catchy, you are giving it significant prominence. In one way or another, people will absorb it, and before long they will see it as normal and as part of a society’s culture. And woe to anyone who dares to criticize such culture, precisely for seeing the obvious content embedded in its message. This leads to the glamorization of crime and of this marginal way of life, whose outcome is never different from destruction, both for those who defend and practice such culture and for people who, even while being completely opposed to it, become victims. Therefore, stop and reflect on this. Try to see whether this is not exactly what happened… whether it was not society itself that asked for everything we are going through. Will we have the maturity and courage to admit that it was us, as a society, who failed? Today, some people who once had a completely distorted view of what is right and wrong seem to have finally seen clearly. Over time, we will see whether they truly changed their minds. Think about it. Reflect honestly, in your own privacy, on this situation. A hug, and until next time.

The World Is Smaller Than It Seems 5320

Julius Melien, 1 mon.
- Poetry - Philosophy - Fantasy -
1.8 min read.
At least to my imagination. Yes, my imagination again! I can say that much of who I became was shaped by the power my imagination held throughout my childhood and a good part of my adolescence. That’s because I was limited by my field of vision and by the perspectives that presented themselves before me. I can say that the visual realm always occupied a place of prominence in my formation; perhaps that is why I am such an admirer of the visual arts, especially photography, an art I practice as an amateur. But why this title? Why is the world smaller, or why does it seem smaller, at least in my perception? Well, the place where I grew up provided the elements for this construction. My house faced the sea, not an ocean, but the back side of a bay, still a sea nonetheless. And just behind it, a small rise, modest, yet sufficient to create an interesting perspective, because both the Sun and the Moon rise precisely behind that elevation, which actually has a horseshoe shape, giving an intriguing outline, with its highest point between east and north. And back then, some forty years ago, there were far more trees and far fewer houses. That’s where the magic happened. For instance, when a full Moon began to emerge behind the hill, among the trees, accompanied by a characteristic wind of autumn or spring, an entire scene would take shape, one that embraced me and held me for hours, often deep into the night. As the world grew quieter, the sounds of the night, the nocturnal fauna and even the discreet whisper of the gentle wind, came to the fore, enriching the magic being built in my mind. I often felt almost capable of controlling the elements of nature with my thoughts alone. And when I looked around me, and up at the sky, the illusion created by perspective gave me the impression that the curvature of the planet was right there, very close to me, in the full 360 degrees around. For that reason, it isn’t hard to understand how, in a very, very distant past, thinkers came up with the idea that above us there truly was a dome along which the celestial bodies traveled, a sky as if it were a curved surface, projected there purely to serve as a spectacle for our eyes. Of course, we know that isn’t how it is. But understand that, for a child’s mind still under construction, this idea can be deeply seductive: that a Creator made all of this to compensate us for all the trials and challenges we face day after day. It was as if, after a long day of work and sacrifice, you sit down in your comfortable armchair after dinner and watch your favorite TV program. And I, who often preferred the natural spectacle over television, imagined that the curvature around me was the edge of the world, so close and yet still beyond my reach. And what lay beyond that boundary? Well, as I’ve said before, in other essays, beyond that limit began another world, not my own, but one that, with the help of a special means of transport, like a spacecraft, I could reach… But that, I’ll leave for another story.

Light Pollution and the End of the Construction of Imagination – Part 2 4933

Julius Melien, 2 mon.
Well, as I said in the previous article, I grew up and became a scientist. Not an astronomer, but a biologist. A biologist passionate about the stars. And many may ask: why didn’t you study astronomy? There are three reasons for that. The first is that I love biology. The second is that I was never good at mathematics. And the third is that I discovered that astronomers nowadays barely look at the sky. Telescopes work automatically, providing data to be analyzed later. That romantic astronomy of the past no longer exists. It was almost poetic, because imagination was the fuel for those scientists. Therefore, in cases like mine, it is much better to remain an amateur. This reminds me of a curious anecdote in which the writer Isaac Asimov is said to have refused an invitation to visit a factory where robots performed tasks on assembly lines, because he did not want to compromise his imagination. Returning to my story, when I was 21 years old, my father surprised me by taking me to a well-known store and buying a telescope. It was a relatively simple instrument, with a 60 mm aperture, but it allowed me to see the surface of the Moon perfectly, as well as Jupiter’s four largest moons and even Saturn’s rings. I don’t even need to say how I felt, do I? I became a child again! And that telescope is still here with me today, 30 years later. But here comes the bad part, which gives these two articles their title… Light pollution has reached extremely high levels, to the point that in large cities, when you look at the sky, you see very few stars, only the brightest ones. City lights have erased the night sky. What child today will look up at the sky and be enchanted by all that immensity? Who will feel themselves on the shores of the cosmic ocean, as Carl Sagan said in the first episode of the classic series Cosmos? How will imagination be built? In the same way, the inspiration of many poets and artists will be compromised. A child today, upon hearing stories of a time when the sky was filled with shining stars, might think that either the batteries ran out and no one replaced them, or that the bulbs burned out and no one changed them. It is still a child using their imagination, but without having experienced one of the most beautiful spectacles of creation. That spectacle is still there, happening, and it will continue to happen for a very, very long time. Or rather, as long as time exists, it will continue, but with a curtain separating the stage from the audience. Today there are movements and campaigns aimed at solving this issue, but I believe it is a great challenge to overcome. Until then, one alternative is to leave large urban centers and seek regions far away, at least 50 km from these cities, where one can truly enjoy the magical view of a clear and genuinely dark sky. I always wish clear skies to everyone, and ad astra!

Light Pollution and the End of the Construction of Imagination – Part 1 4745

Julius Melien, 2 mon.
One of the memories I carry most fondly is when my interest in everything related to outer space first awakened. I clearly remember that in 1980 I saw a TV report about a lunar eclipse that we would be able to observe. The images shown on the news program impacted me so deeply that I could hardly sleep that night. The sight of the lunar craters, caught in that characteristic interplay of light and shadow, became etched in my mind. The next day, I questioned a teacher who was a friend of my family almost to the point of exhausting him, asking so many questions about the subject. Next year, I also saw TV advertisements announcing the theatrical release of "The Empire Strikes Back". In a way, my imagination was launched in a manner analogous to the catapult effect that spacecraft and space probes use when they swing around planets. There wasn’t a single clear night when I didn’t spend hours looking up at the sky, at the immensity of the universe. At that time, the night sky was truly dark, since light pollution caused by city lights did not yet have as significant an effect as it does today. In 1982, Carl Sagan’s series "Cosmos" also premiered on television, and even its soundtrack struck me deeply. Then, in 1984, with the debut of several animated series, two of them being "Groizer X" and "Star Blazers", the American version of "Space Battleship Yamato", I experienced yet another “gravitational catapult” effect, further fueling my imagination. In 1986, the passage of Halley’s Comet took over newspapers, magazines, TV programs, and even my school science books. That was it! This was the definitive confirmation of my passion for the space. At that time, however, I still lived in the realm of fantasy, driven solely by what my imagination brought me. I would look at the sky on clear nights and think that traveling through space was like it was in the movies, challenging, full of adventures and dangers, yet seeming simple and even comfortable. After all, in science fiction films, many aspects of physics were disregarded, using a kind of poetic license. But I grew up. I became a scientist. My gaze acquired a new perspective, yet without ever losing the magic of imagination from the beginning of this story. What came next? In the second part of this story, I will conclude… Clear skies to all, and Ad astra!

The First Kill and the Conquest of Outer Space 5667

Julius Melien, 2 mon.
When I watched "2001: A Space Odyssey" for the first time, directed by Stanley Kubrick, I must have been around 12 to 14 years old. Obviously, I understood absolutely nothing. I watched it driven purely by my affinity for science fiction, more specifically for the theme of space. However, when I watched it again almost 20 years later, already graduated as a biologist, I arrived at an understanding of the first act that I believe few people have had. At least that was my perception, since none of the people I spoke to about it saw the connection that I am about to present. There is a striking scene in the film that I call “The Cut”: the abrupt transition from the first to the second act, in which an ancestral primate of humankind, holding a bone, throws it into the air, and the camera follows the bone as it rises until the director cuts to a space station in a future time. The message I perceived was that, at the moment these hominids began to consume meat, since before that they gathered seeds, ate roots and vegetables alongside herbivorous animals, there was a significant change that, in my view, represented an evolutionary leap. When an individual noticed the skeleton of an animal, there was a long, robust bone, probably a femur. He picked up this bone and began to manipulate it until he discovered that it could be used as a weapon. Wisely, the director alternates scenes of this individual testing the new weapon with scenes of him killing an animal that lived among them, followed immediately by scenes of them feeding on the meat of that slaughtered animal. We know that, among all sources of protein, meat has the highest protein content in the diet, and it is very likely that this increase in protein intake in the diet of our ancestors enabled an increase in brain mass and, consequently, an increase in cranial volume. This can be observed by comparing skulls of other closely related primates, such as chimpanzees, gorillas, and orangutans, and even fossil skulls that have been found. This difference is evident, allowing us to conclude that this was what propelled us evolutionarily in relation to our relatives within the primate order. It is clear in the scenes that, in addition to using the bone as a tool to kill prey, it was also used as a weapon to attack other groups or to defend against them, since behavior related to dispute and conquest has always been part of our construction as a biological species. And what is the relationship between all of this and the famous “cut” at the end of the film’s first act? It is that, at the moment our ancestors began to feed on meat, a process of brain enlargement began, which led to an increase in intelligence, an essential condition that would later make possible the conquest of outer space, as shown in the abrupt cut from the scene of the bone being thrown into the air to a space station in orbit. Well, this was my free interpretation of that important moment in the film. For this reason, I invite everyone to take a careful look at the messages that are conveyed, whether in films, songs, or works of art in general. The author has the need to communicate something through their art.

Mental Archaeology for the Rescue of My True Essence 5487

Julius Melien, 2 mon.
- Philosophy - Realist -
1.4 min read.
Like an archaeologist, I embarked on a true journey with the purpose of finding the site where my essence was left behind and buried under new constructions. Today, I see clearly that it was a great mistake to abandon the path that had always been prepared for me. Therefore, it is now necessary to carry out a true archaeological work and excavate everything I denied, ignored, and left behind. Excavating my mind has been a hard and time-consuming task, for it is necessary to remove layers that, for a long time, have been covering my true essence. Now, what matters most is to find all of this well preserved. And once my true essence is found, I have no doubt that my spiritual growth will finally take place. But I also know that I will face heavier battles, since the egregores in which we are fully immersed do not accept this rupture, as it is we who feed them. What motivates me is knowing that it is entirely possible to break free from these egregores, from our limiting beliefs, and from everything that imprisons us while we are in this state. I felt my spirit crying out for freedom all this time, and I believed I was giving it that freedom. But today I recognize my mistake, and now I finally understand why, even believing my spirit was free, I continued to hear its cries and lamentations. My moment is now! Everything is in motion! I am broken, but the process of regeneration has already begun. And, as I heard from a very important voice, and continue to hear every day, at various moments: “It is already happening!” I have received a new strength. I am fully aware that I will still face many obstacles; however, the difference now is that, knowing I have found the true archaeological site of my mind and having already begun the excavations, and started to uncover the first artifacts that make up this lost treasure, I am filled with hope and renew my faith in my success for this second half of my life on this plane. After all, I am certain that I am worthy of all the abundance and prosperity that the universe already has prepared to deliver to me, and that I will take possession of everything that was created and envisioned for me. Seek your true essence. And if you have already found it and hold it in your hands, never let it go for anything.

The Mental Exercise of a Genius and His Imaginary Journey Through Space 5200

Julius Melien, 2 mon.
- Society - Philosophy - Realist -
1.6 min read.
Greetings, inhabitants of the surface. This is Genius, speaking directly from my ship orbiting our planet. I chose to come up here because, far from the noise, the confusion, and the turbulence of the planet’s periphery, I think better. I have a bit of peace to meditate on my ideas, on what I have gathered and continue to gather throughout my life, which today I can say has not been a small one. “The message is greater than the messenger.” Have any of you ever heard this phrase? I have heard it a few times, but I remember that the first time I heard it, it was kind of loose, without much context. I didn’t pay much attention to it, yet it stayed engraved in my mind. Then I remembered my teenage years, when we always go through that phase of rebellion without a cause, when we are constantly ready to react to anything with a certain aggressiveness and a foolish arrogance, one of those attitudes that, now deeply immersed in adulthood, makes us feel that kind of shame which, just by remembering it, makes us want to hide, even though no one, absolutely no one, knows what you have just thought. Yet it feels as if everyone around you has heard your thoughts. But well, returning to the phrase in question: I understood its meaning when, one day, I observed a person, what I would call a “late adolescent,” one of those who have already reached adulthood but firmly refuse to leave adolescence behind, criticizing someone who was conveying a positive message, a truly beneficial one, bringing nothing but gains. This “late adolescent” immediately said: “He says all these things, but if you look closely, ‘behind the scenes’ he must do everything wrong, must have a rotten life, and so on…” I stopped and thought: yes, it is quite possible that this is true. It may be that this person is a hypocrite, but I am not certain. However, even if he is, it is not the hidden rot that he is transmitting in the message. No, not at all. And if he truly is a hypocrite, the bill will come due for him, not for those who received the message and genuinely took it as an example and a model to follow. And if those who received the message follow what is contained in it, we can say that the mission has been accomplished. Therefore, gentlemen “late adolescents,” let go of this senseless rebellion, this resentment over something that was not done to you, and pay attention to the message, not the messenger. Or admit that, deep down, you wish to live the very rot you use to attack the supposed hypocrite who is delivering a valuable message. That is all, inhabitants of the surface. I will now take a trip around the Moon, but upon my return to our planet’s orbit, I will bring another thought. Stay strong and have faith.

The Understanding of History and the Compression of Planes 5717

Julius Melien, 2 mon.
- History - Science - Philosophy -
1.2 min read.
Photography explained to me the concept of plane compression. And what is that? Well, when we use a telephoto lens with a long focal length, it allows us to bring elements that are far from the camera closer. As a result, these elements, or objects, if you prefer, appear much larger, creating an optical illusion. A classic example is those images in which the Moon or the Sun appears gigantic behind mountains, buildings, and so on. This effect creates the illusion that the celestial body is pressed right up against those mountains, buildings, or other distant objects. The same thing happens when we photograph a mountain range. Under the effect created by a telephoto lens, the mountains in the background appear as if they were stacked closely together, forming layers due to their different altitudes. However, if we could look at these mountains from above, we would see that they are actually far apart from one another. Another example can be seen when we observe constellations. They form figures that were named according to cultures spread across the planet, for example, the constellations of Orion, the Southern Cross, Scorpio, and many others. By connecting the points, in this case, the stars, these figures emerge. In reality, however, these stars are not on the same plane; they are at different depths in space. But because they are so far away, we have the impression that they all lie on a single two-dimensional plane. This sparked an insight in my mind and led me to create an analogy to understand historical events that have shaped, and continue to shape, our time. Be aware that you are participating in a historical event, even if you do not realize it. The episodes that eventually come together to form the historical record often do not happen all at once. They occur at widely spaced intervals of time. Yet, when we look back at the past and assemble these episodes as fragments, we are able to understand them more clearly, just as when we look at a photograph taken with a telephoto lens and see distant objects that appear united on the same plane, as if they were compressed together. This analogy led me to an understanding of history through the concept of plane compression.

The Second Intestine and the Paradoxical Diarrhea of Ideas 5682

Julius Melien, 2 mon.
- Science - Realist -
2.1 min read.
When I was studying Biological Sciences, in the course Anatomy I, the professor introduced us to the concept of the “second brain,” referring to the intestine, since it has a very complex neural network, containing more neurons than the spinal cord, the axis that runs along the vertebral column and is part of the Central Nervous System, and is even capable of making its own decisions without needing to activate the brain to do so. Well, today, almost 30 years later, I have never forgotten this. And because I have the habit of making analogies and adapting concepts,especially when I explain certain subjects in the classroom, I ended up creating a concept entirely inspired by what I just mentioned, in an attempt to illustrate the moment I am currently going through. I am a biologist and a teacher who, probably due to some mild, undiagnosed neurodivergence, has interests in multiple areas. Some of them are, in a way, connected to science; others are not. One, however, is especially connected to the arts, and it is something I have practiced for some time now: the art of photography, with an emphasis on the landscape style—landscape photography. Natural landscapes and urban landscapes activate a kind of creative gift that I believe I have, in such a way that my head begins to boil with ideas. All it takes is a brief conversation about a certain topic, and if it has any connection to landscapes and places, within a fraction of a second an idea is born in my mind. I imagine that for many people, when reading or hearing an account like this, it may seem like something wonderful, an incredible special ability. And I must say that yes, it is an ability that many might envy. But what they do not see is that this, in a way, comes along with a series of problems. Let me explain: in my case, because of certain psychological issues that I carry with me, the fact that my head explodes with ideas causes me some suffering. That is because there are “blocks” that prevent me from putting these ideas, projects, and potential successes into practice, if they were to move forward. That is where the analogy used in the title of this text comes in. The “second intestine” is a playful expression, a pun, because I am referring to the brain, as if it were a reversed concept. And in this second intestine, my ideas are born. However, the “blocks” I mentioned earlier act like a kind of cork, which should have been eliminated when they appeared, but instead remained in the tract, drying out and becoming impacted, preventing the natural flow. And what is the problem with that? Inside, ideas never stop forming, because just as we eat daily for survival, the processing of food generates waste that needs to be eliminated. Thus, in the body, a fecaloma that blocks the natural flow of the intestinal tract is responsible for causing paradoxical diarrhea, which leaks around the sides of the fecal mass. The same thing happens with my ideas. They are born inside my head and need to come out, but my blockages keep them trapped inside. From time to time, however, part of them “leaks,” giving a glimpse of what is inside, and if they were to come out fully, in addition to relieving the pressure, they would be useful, since they would bring benefits such as personal fulfillment and financial return, which would be essential for my overall health. My second intestine is full of ideas and creations that need to come out. But for that to happen, I need to overcome a difficult and painful stage: eliminating the blockage so that the flow can finally be released.