Tóbi Bítàn🌻

Please, read books. Not just captions, or carousel posts, or what made it to the top of your feed. Read books. Long ones. Complex ones. You cannot build a mind with weight on the back of social media ephemerals. Intellectual depth demands patience.

the only logical response to this realization isn't despair, but a very cold kind of freedom. if nothing actually matters on a cosmic scale, the pressure to be "significant" is gone. you’re nothing. i’m nothing. so just lean into the immediate, physical reality of the moment.

the scale of the universe makes your big problems look ridiculous. once you zoom out far enough, the drama of your life dissolves into the background noise. there is no grand design, just us milling about and pretending that our specific version of doing something really matters

@Elo_nicholas may God fill your heart with gladness to cheer you. 🥳🥳♥️

Happy birthday and happy CIPM induction to me🎉📜.

hope is a survival requirement. it’s the baseline psychological condition that allows us to endure the "now." if you can’t see a version of tomorrow that looks better than today, you aren't just unhappy, you’re functionally finished.

the most uncomfortable truth we have to navigate is the absolute certainty of our own erasure. one day, you and everyone you actually care about will be dead. and the window of time where anyone remembers what you said or did is so small it might as well not exist...

and it’s why so many relationships collapse under the pressure of unmet, unrealistic expectations. real life is about trade-offs. once you accept that you’re picking a subset of traits rather than a perfect whole, you can actually start building something sustainable.

that has no basis in human nature. you have to find the rest elsewhere, in friends, in work, or in yourself. one person cannot be your entire social and psychological infrastructure. it’s too much weight for any one individual to carry,

a major dating mistake is expecting a perfect match for all needs. chemistry, intellect, stability, loyalty, humor. but that isn't how human compatibility actually works. the reality is much more restrictive. you essentially have a list of high-value traits and you get to pick...

The overarching point here is that animals, high & low, are impelled by evolution to reproduce at whatever cost. The male Bee ejaculates & dies The male human marries women of easy virtue, takes his Nigerian wife abroad and dies. Most times figuratively. Sometimes literally Which is to say, while the death of the male bee is immediate and literal, for the human male, the death that results from his reproductive pursuits comes in many forms. He self-reduces to servility, and makes dignity-stripping concessions until he completely eraces himself. It's called being a man. If he is Nigerian, he expends scarce resources doing 'talking stages' with women who stand to gain everything and lose nothing. In the unlikely event that she dates or marries him, he apologises for peace to reign, bends, shrinks, and negotiates against himself. If he is Western, or is governed by a feminist legal system, he gets divorced for being too nice, and loses his house and children. The male bee dies once. The male human dies in installments

most are too weak to sit in silence. they use "improvement" as a mask for their restlessness.

i find myself holding back from asking my closest friends for help. there’s a certain irony in being paralyzed by the knowledge that their support is guaranteed, i don't want to overreach simply because i know they're willing.

we spend almost 100% of our cognitive energy trying to avoid this reality. every ambition, every argument, every "legacy" project is just an elaborate distraction. we are functionally inconsequential, just cosmic dust moving around on a tiny blue speck in the middle of nowhere.

we survive on the margin between what is and what could be. once that margin closes, you’re left with a reality that is essentially a dead end. hope is the only thing that prevents the inherent difficulty of living from becoming a total argument against existence itself.

how do you tell someone to have a "nice" day in good conscience when you know their entire internal life is a frantic effort to keep the void at bay? a nice day is usually just a day where the distractions worked well enough that they didn't have to confront the lack of a point.

the moment you stop believing that things can improve, you experience a kind of spiritual death. it’s the end of the psychological forward motion that keeps us upright. if the future is just a static repetition of a mediocre present, the incentive for effort completely vanishes.