Embracing Bitterness and Suffering as Intense Flavors of Life: Loving Lies and Statistical Ones
Back in the day, a colleague used to call me “lemon” because I was too sour.
I replied that a lemon is just an orange in a bad mood.
Now I realize that a grumpy orange can go sour, but that doesn’t mean it was born bitter.
Some things, I believe, made me sour by nature. I blame it mostly on the fact that life is, at its core, suffering; life is a slow consumption and collapse. And on the years I spent denying my own bitterness, wasting energy trying to sweeten what was never meant to be tamed.
No more.
I want to taste myself fully.
Enough of trying to be what I’m not, or denying what I am.
I crave only the swinging spices that make me lighter and truer — for me, not for anyone else.
Yes, I prefer my own company to anyone else’s.
Yes, I admire cynicism, skepticism, and sarcasm.
Yes, I laugh alone.
Yes, I find charm in wickedness.
Yes, I want to be more Lucifer than messiah. I antagonize!
Yes, I want to say “no” more often.
Yes, I want to taste all flavors — none denied.
Yes, I want to suffer, too.
Summary of the article “Life Is Suffering: Pessimism and the Quest for Peace” by Christopher Linkiewicz
The Porcupine’s Dilemma is a parable by Arthur Schopenhauer that illustrates the difficulties and paradoxes of human relationships.
The author begins with the core premise of philosophical pessimism: life is suffering. Inspired by Arthur Schopenhauer, the text argues that suffering isn’t accidental — it’s the structural truth of existence. But instead of despair, it proposes peace through ethical, simple, detached living.
Linkiewicz draws parallels between Schopenhauer’s thought and religious-philosophical traditions like Hinduism, Buddhism, Christianity, and the writings of Plato and Kant. His main work, The World as Will and Representation, is framed as a bridge between Kantian reason and Eastern ethics of renunciation.
Buddhism becomes the clearest mirror: the Four Noble Truths — life is suffering (dukkha), suffering has causes, and there’s a path beyond it — echo Schopenhauer’s view. Both reject denial, and instead turn suffering into practical wisdom.
The article suggests that accepting suffering as the nature of life can be freeing. Peace, it seems, lies not in escaping pain, but in dwelling lucidly within it.
What did my child say about my flavors?
This was the symbolic structure I discussed with my offspring — shaped by my own lyrical irony, sharp critique, and aesthetic honesty.
Warning: it’s a lie. I bribed her with a trip to the Santa Rita de Cássia church fair — hot dogs, cake, soda, and bingo. She tried to please me, not to be honest.
- Sweet — You charm, attract, and hold. But never idly. Yours is seasonal fruit, not factory dessert.
- Salty — You preserve what matters, season with dry humor, and deliver what’s needed. Salt also purifies. And you’re not afraid to rub it into open wounds.
- Sour — Your acidity comes from clarity. You sour clichés, dismantle rehearsed speeches, and expose the mold behind the wrapping.
- Bitter — Here lies your depth. The digestion of existence. You chew pain like it’s nourishment, then serve it as gesture, word, or grimace.
- Umami — Your mystery. That flavor no one can name, yet the dish needs it. The unspoken glue.
- Astringent — You demand pause. You don’t drip; you sting and stay. You dry excess.
- Metallic — The cold edge, the machine’s echo. It’s in your provocations. The tang of thought sharpened. But you don’t rust.
Then I asked the other liar [the AI] for scientific definitions of those flavors:
- Sweet: Detected by receptors sensitive to simple sugars like glucose, fructose, sucrose. Honey.
- Salty: Resulting from sodium ions entering specific taste channels. Table salt.
- Sour: Detected through hydrogen ions from acidic substances. Lemon, but still juice.
- Bitter: Detected by a wide range of receptors, often as a defense against toxins. Unsweetened coffee.
- Umami: Triggered by amino acids like glutamate, indicating protein presence. Shiitake mushroom in soy sauce.
- Astringent: Not a true flavor, but a tactile drying sensation from tannins binding saliva proteins. Pomegranate.
- Metallic: A debated sensation, often linked to iron or zinc ions stimulating gustatory or olfactory receptors. Oysters or shellfish.
Cynar
Cynar is an Italian bitter-sweet aperitif made from artichoke and herbs. In Brazil and Portugal, it’s known as the core ingredient of Rabo de Galo — a cocktail made of Cynar and cachaça (distilled spirit of sugar cane).
I am Cynar. Artichoke bitterness and bittersweet agony
Lemon without apology
Ferment of myself
Leaking heartburn and lucidity
My peel no longer wants to be orange
My juice begs for no sugar
My taste won’t bend
Not made for the party
I’m a digestif for the brave
Vinegar in a plastic soul
Who licks, recoils
Who bites, understands
Who stays, sours with me
I am flavor that lingers
I am me without anesthesia
I’m me with taste, with all the tastes.
