life lessons
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“So this is hell. I’d never have believed it. You remember all we were told about the torture chambers, the fire and brimstone, the ‘burning marl.’ Old wives’ tales! There’s no need for red-hot pokers. Hell is—other people!” No Exit, Jean-Paul Sartre Sartre’s famous line really makes you think. It challenges the old-school images of
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My father was a loving and accepting man. I watched him grow and evolve over the years—his beliefs shifting as he learned, as he listened, as life opened his eyes in new ways. He never clung to an idea simply because it was familiar. Instead, he allowed himself to question, to reconsider, to change. When
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If you’ve ever found yourself drawn into the orbit of a narcissist, you know the dizzying contradiction they embody: one minute, they’re warm, attentive, and seemingly all in; the next, they’re cold, cruel, and impossibly detached. It’s as if you’re dealing with two distinct people—a light and a dark—when in reality, it’s the same person,
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Who would be the Antichrist? The idea has fueled centuries of speculation—from theological debates to conspiracy theories to vicious political accusations. Rooted in Christian eschatology, the Antichrist is often imagined as a charismatic deceiver, a figure who rises to power, opposes Christ, and ushers in an era of unspeakable chaos. Yet in a world that
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Losing your eyesight as you age is terrifying. I don’t talk about it much, but every year, my vision gets worse. And with that comes a quiet panic—one that sneaks up on me in unexpected moments. Like when I struggle to read something I know I could see just fine a few months ago, or
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I saw this quote by Charles Bukowski, and it hit me like a brick to the skull: “I see men assassinated around me every day. I walk through rooms of the dead, streets of the dead, cities of the dead; men without eyes, men without voices; men with manufactured feelings and standard reactions; men with
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In an ideal world, I would be able to hold my husband’s hand in public without a second thought. Not just in the safe pockets of the world—the city streets where we blend in, the Pride festivals where we are celebrated, the family gatherings where we are known—but anywhere. Any street, any town, any room.
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Imagine waking up in a world where every person looked the same, lived the same, and loved the same way. No diversity, no difference—just one narrow definition of existence. At first, some might think this sounds peaceful, orderly even. But look a little closer, and you’ll see something far more disturbing: a world drained of
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Have you ever heard that we lose 21 grams at the moment of our death? Some say it’s the weight of the soul—a notion that feels both mysterious and deeply profound when it comes to remembering someone as irreplaceable as my dad. Lately, I’ve been immersed in memories of him—cherishing the warmth of his laughter,
Steven LaChance Blog 