You’re not just a brain.
You’re not just a father, or a mother.
You’re not your career, your car, or your cluelessness.
You’re SO much more than what you think about yourself, what you lack, or what you wish for.
So much more.
You see: calling ourselves a walking brain is like calling a pink-orange-purple-yellow sunset a piece of sky.
A brain is a thing (a pretty cool thing, for sure), and we are not.
We are life itself.
All of it, at once.
Calling being in love a temporary chemical madness doesn’t do it justice.
We are all the colors in the world, we are depth and height and width, and, well, in the end, we are without borders and measurements.
We are not robots, or mechanical entities.
We are conscious, we can feel, experience frustration and empathy.
We can daydream and nightmare.
We can have an ice cream and enjoy it, or hate ourselves for it.
Sure, there is a brain.
But we are not.