If you're the kind of person whose state of mind is described by Kierkegaard titles (Fear and Trembling, The Sickness Unto Death, Either/Or), you might want to make an existential decision to be different. Existence over Essence is the famous philosophical dichotomy. Kierkegaard may have been the darling of Sartre and Camus but who's to say you can't make meaning by being Julius, the mangy duck that descended out of nowhere on "You Bet Your Life." Raskolnikov kills the old pawnbroker, Meurseult, the Arab. What if you were hit with the idea of being happy, deliriously happy, so happy that you can't contain yourself and don't know what to do about it? Does the shoe fit the foot?
read "Frankel" by Francis Levy, Vol. 1 Brooklyn
and listen to "The Harder They Come" by Jimmy Cliff
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