Believe it or not, the latest book I'm reading is called f**k it therapy, subtitled the profane way to profound happiness. Apropos of nothing in particular, it's just what I happen to have on my bedside table at the moment, although it strikes me that this is a bit of a f**k it building. Not giving a damn.
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There's also the idea that we'll be more successful if we f**k it because we will be more natural, happier and this will be recognised and appreciated by other people. We'll see. I'll give it a go. If even a little of their approach rubs off it should be a positive thing.
Grim reality can bite sometimes, but they use the metaphor of a prison, and in particular the ones we can't see or don't even realise we are in. With lots of examples. Like the prison of doing what other people want, or the prison of lack of self-esteem. It's all good stuff. The same stuff I often read wrapped up in new clothes, but good stuff nevertheless.
This blog's a bit of a f**k it blog. The asterisks are the author's, by the way. I take photos of what I like and say what I like, hoping I get some readers, of course, but not trying to please anyone in particular.
No doubt this building will eventually be renovated and normal Parisian streetside service will be resumed and few will be any the wiser. But we'll know that there was once a building on this corner that dared to say f**k it to the usual Paris norms of respectability! Are we brave enough to do the same?
And why not...