A medida que envejeces, te das cuenta cada vez más de que la verdadera felicidad está compuesta por mañanas tranquilas, un entorno limpio, acostarte temprano, un hogar seguro y personas que no te drenan la energía…
without urgency, years slip by like days. with extreme urgency, days stretch into years. urgency is the most underrated & most important force in making something of your life.
I still can't wrap my head around the fact that there are still 50,000 people missing from the Venezuela earthquakes.
Imagine if a disaster of that scale happened in the US. Fifty thousand people is roughly the entire population of Palm Springs, California. Picture every single resident of that city just gone.
If that many people vanished under rubble in a Western country, it would be the only thing on every news channel, every single day, for months.
Instead, it feels like this massive tragedy has just been brushed under the carpet by the mainstream media cycle. The sheer scale of the devastation in places like La Guaira is unfathomable, yet the world has largely looked away.
Every single one of those 50,000 missing people is someone’s child, parent, or friend. The global silence around this humanitarian crisis is deafening.
This sentence from Carl Jung hits hard.
“No matter how isolated you are and how lonely you feel, if you do your work truly and conscientiously, unknown friends will come and seek you.”
This article is spot on, but there’s one other reason why Messi hate has spread like wildfire this World Cup:
~15 years ago with the GOAT debate at its peak, hundreds of millions of young fans worldwide picked CR7 as their idol while he and Messi went band for band.
And the battle was legendary.
But for the past decade, Ronaldo fans have watched their GOAT slowly decline while an aging Messi remained on top of the world, surpassing Ronaldo on individual awards and lifting the game’s most prestigious trophy, which Ronaldo could never get near.
Ronaldo’s millions of supporters now roam social media like a leaderless army who has lost the war.
With the debate on the pitch settled and Ronaldo’s legacy capped, his fans desperately undermine Messi’s achievements in a futile attempt to close the ever-widening gap between stars.
And I don’t blame them.
But that is why, as football fans everywhere enjoy the glittering sunset of Messi’s unparalleled career, millions of Ronaldo diehards are reduced to complaints about referees and TikTok aura edits from 2017, while they watch a little boy from Rosario forever eclipse their childhood hero and take his rightful place as the greatest footballer to ever live.
He told his students to go to the windows.
Get out. Jump if you have to.
Then Liviu Librescu walked to the classroom door and pressed his body against it.
He was 76 years old. He weighed 140 lbs
The gunman was in the hallway.
It was April 16, 2007. A Monday morning. Solid mechanics class at Virginia Tech, Room 204. Twenty-two students, most of them 19 or 20 years old.
At 9:45 AM, gunshots echoed through Norris Hall. Room by room, the shooter was working his way down the corridor.
Liviu heard it. He understood immediately.
He had survived the Holocaust. He had survived a labor camp. He had spent decades living under Communist oppression. He knew exactly what evil sounded like.
He told his students to escape through the windows. Second floor — it was a drop, but they'd survive. Then he walked to the door and held it shut with his body.
The shooter tried to force it open. It wouldn't move.
He fired through the door. Wood splintered. Bullets came through.
Liviu stayed.
Behind him, students were climbing out the windows. Dropping to the ground. Running. One by one, all twenty-two of them got out.
The shooter kept firing through the door.
Liviu held it shut until every student was safe.
Then the bullets killed him.
When police arrived, they found his body at the door.
All 22 of his students survived. Not one was injured.
Liviu Librescu was born on August 18, 1930, in Ploiești, Romania.
He was Jewish. In 1941, when he was eleven years old, Romanian authorities sent him and his family to a labor camp. His father died there. Liviu survived. When the war ended, he was fifteen.
He went back to school. Studied engineering. Earned a doctorate from the University of Bucharest.
But Communist Romania had no interest in allowing a Jewish intellectual to succeed. He was blocked from academic positions. Passed over for jobs he deserved. He applied to emigrate. The government kept refusing.
Finally, in 1978 when Liviu was 48 years old — Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin personally intervened. Romania let him go.
He had spent most of his adult life trapped in a country that didn't want him.
In Israel, he taught at Tel Aviv University. Published over 300 papers. Became an international expert in aeroelasticity — the science of how air flows over aircraft wings.
In 1985, Virginia Tech offered him a position. He moved to Blacksburg, Virginia. He taught there for 22 years. His students loved him — demanding but kind, high standards, genuine care.
He was still teaching full-time at 76. Still publishing research. Still showing up every Monday morning for solid mechanics.
April 16 was the first day of Passover — the Jewish holiday celebrating liberation from slavery and oppression.
Liviu Librescu died on the day his tradition sets aside to celebrate freedom.
He spent his entire life escaping death and oppression by luck, by persistence, by the intervention of others. And on his last morning, he chose to stand at a door so that twenty-two young people could have the future he had fought so hard to reach.
He could have run. He could have hidden. He could have climbed out a window with his students.
He chose to stay.
The Virginia Tech shooting killed 32 people that day — the deadliest school shooting in American history at the time.
Room 204 had zero casualties.
Because a 76-year-old Holocaust survivor held a door with his body until every student behind him was gone.
His funeral was held in Israel. Students from Virginia Tech flew across the ocean to honor him. The Israeli government awarded him the Star of David Medal posthumously. Virginia Tech named a scholarship in his memory.
His son said his father died the way he lived — protecting others.
A man who survived everything evil threw at him for 76 years.
On his last day, he made sure 22 kids survived too.
Professor Liviu Librescu. August 18, 1930 — April 16, 2007.
Holocaust survivor. Labor camp survivor.
302 published papers. 22 years at Virginia Tech.
22 students out the window.
He held the door.