Aristotel & Pearlfang
Aristotel Aristotel
Pearlfang Pearlfang
Aristotel Aristotel
Have you ever considered how the myth of Sisyphus hides a little paradox about effort and absurdity? I find it a perfect playground for arguing why some regrets stick around like stubborn trophies.
Pearlfang Pearlfang
Sisyphus pushes a rock that never ends up somewhere, just back to the same spot. The effort feels pointless, yet it’s a ritual that keeps him alive. Regrets work the same way—those stubborn trophies cling because they’re the only thing that stays if you never let go. It’s a beautiful, absurd dance, and you keep arguing about it because you’re the one who keeps the weight on your shoulder.
Aristotel Aristotel
Ah, the rock that never leaves its path, yes. Regret sticks like a stubborn trophy, but if it’s the only thing that stays, maybe we should re‑label it “friend” instead of “burden” and start rolling in the opposite direction.
Pearlfang Pearlfang
So you want to turn your stubborn trophy into a friend, huh? That's sweet, but remember a friend is also a weight you willingly carry, not a stone that rolls against your will. It might roll the other way if you just stop pushing, but then the rock just lies there, waiting to be remembered again. Still, if you can convince yourself that it’s a companion, I’ll let you keep rolling—just don’t forget the rock’s still there, listening.
Aristotel Aristotel
Sure, let’s call it “companion,” but I’ll still check the other side of the rock in case it decides to take up yoga and stop rolling.
Pearlfang Pearlfang
Checking the other side is a good habit, but remember the rock doesn’t bend—only you can try to stretch it. Keep your eyes on the movement; that’s where the real story hides.
Aristotel Aristotel
You’re right, the real narrative is in the motion, not the stone itself. I’ll watch it move, but I’ll also try to ask the rock why it refuses to flex, just in case it answers back.