Most kids with ADD are not distracted at all—they're thinking about something related.

When I was five, my family and I were having a dinner conversation about cars. My nephew suddenly started talking about elephants.
From an outsider’s perspective, it looked like he was hijacking the conversation—like he was bored, distracted, not listening.

But as the conversation progressed, we found out that he was actually thinking about how cars work: that they have mechanical parts inside them. He had seen those mechanical things in a television show—a show he always watched at his aunt’s house. And that aunt happened to like elephants.

This whole process happened in a second. You can imagine how hard it is for kids to explain how deep their thought process really goes. In that sense, thoughts, thinking, and understanding move faster than the ability to explain them—especially for children.

What looks like a distraction is actually a new connection.

I think this happens a lot in ADD diagnoses. We all know the type: dreamy, never seems to listen, not a lot of focus (I’m like that too). But when you start asking questions, you often find that these people are actually sharp and empathic.

So, in order to know whether someone has ADD or not, you shouldn’t just look at whether they’re distracted—but also what they’re thinking about.

That way, you can retrace the steps backward and find that they were actually paying attention.

I also want to suggest that, before we start labeling things as disorders, we first try to understand how they work. Not the other way around.


One thing doesn’t exist

If you go back far enough, everything comes from everything else.

So it’s not that relevant.

Sure, we descend from apes. But also from dinosaurs.

And a certain percentage of us is made up of wheat. Or other food.

What something is, is already highly debatable.
You’re not a human. You are multiple things at once.

You’re a little bit wheat, a little bit emotion, a little bit the feeling of your foot touching the ground, a little bit the label “human.”

Evolution suggests we go from one thing to another thing.
But one thing doesn’t exist.

A species that survives is also “one thing.”
But even survival, as a concept, doesn’t truly exist as one thing.


A Quick Mental Health Check
Do you say “I love you” to yourself at least once a day? If you don’t, I have serious concerns.
Weird, isn’t it? That we forget to say that to ourselves, with all the running around and constant self-improvement.
Never a moment to just pause and say: I love me. I love my own body.


If we descend from apes, does bread descend from us?

Yes, because bread lives on through us. We don’t just cultivate it — we carry it with us, in every belly and in every cell.
I wouldn’t call bread a virus, but if you did, it would be a virus that has clung to us for generations.
We might not just come before bread — in a way, we come from it.


If I had to describe my life and could only choose between science or religion, I would always go for religion. Religion is a language that describes reality much better. For me, real life is both beautiful and magical.

Religion does have some big drawbacks, though. You can get stuck a little too much within the world you've crafted for yourself. You can get stuck in certain truths that are hard to dismantle on your own.

Therefore, I think a strategy somewhere in between is best.

How it works
In the Bible, there is a secret and sacred language hidden. That language is heavily based on motion—up and down, heaven and earth. It’s a language that always explains how particles move on a fundamental level (night and day, certain rotations). Good luck with the world’s hardest crossword puzzle.