The man and his umbrella – the stories that we tell ourself

So I met this guy yesterday and he lives in a place that is full of umbrellas. Because every time he goes out, he forgets his umbrella, and he has to buy a new one, if it starts to rain, which of course it always does. And sometime he doesn’t even gets to use it, like yesterday when the rain had already stopped, shortly after he bought it. Anyway, he does that every time, so he’s place is all filled up with umbrellas now. There are umbrellas everywhere – literally everywhere! Actually it’s so full of umbrellas that he cannot even get in anymore. When he opens the door, umbrellas just fall out and he has to push them back in leaving no room for him. So now he lives in different airbnb apartments, pretending that he just moved here from, and he hasn’t found a place to live yet, while in reality, his place is just full of umbrellas. He has to make this cover up story, because no one would believe him, if he told them the truth about the umbrellas. He didn’t even tell me, I just figured!

… and the rest is history. Or actually it’s herstory, which is mystory. So maybe it’s … a mystery?

Of course none of this is really true, except that I did meet this guy yesterday, and he forgot his umbrella, so he bought a new one and he does that “every time”. And the story reminds me a bit of the way our physical reality sometimes can be so weird under unusual circumstances, that we have to fill in the blanks and try to make it fit into our expectations of reality. We make up these stories that apparently make sense to our limited brain and the universe is laughing, because they are so cute. Ahh, those humans.

… So the rest is a mystery of future, which someday will be the history of the future.

OK then – seeya!

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