to unfreeze.

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what does it mean to love people without their permission

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"this isn’t a love song / this a fuck them boys forever, hold a grudge song"

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"and if not that then we are simply stars whose ill-fated courses end in collision, either way / we’ll explode."

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But the real difficulties, the real arts of survival, seem to lie in more subtle realms. There, what’s called for is a kind of resilience of the psyche, a readiness to deal with what comes next. These captives lay out in a stark and dramatic way what goes on in every life: the transitions whereby you cease to be who you were. Sometimes an old photograph, an old friend, an old letter, will remind you that you are not who you once were, for that person who dwelt among them, valued this, chose that, wrote thus, no longer exists. Without noticing it you traversed a great distance; the strange has become familiar and the familiar if not strange at least awkward or uncomfortable, an out-grown garment.

Some people inherit values and practices as a house they inhabit; some of us have to burn down that house, find our own ground, build from scratch, even as a psychological metamorphosis. As a cultural metamorphosis the transition is far more dramatic.

Rebecca Solnit, A Field Guide to Getting Lost

(via commovente)

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Scanned from Wonderland of Science. 1930s.

Scanned from Wonderland of Science. 1930s.

(via commovente)

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"I have no love for a fixed position."

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the idea of practicing being yourself. how all of the sudden I feel like I am beginning to really see myself as myself for the first time, and not just a weird iteration of myself through the lens of someone else.

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big, gruff man at work today who lives on a street called “tickle court”

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someone describing how their day is going as "rare. you know, sorta cold. bloody."

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