doomed by the narrative but not to death. doomed to survive. doomed to stay alive inside the story. doomed to never escape the narrative, not even through death. you are allowed no exit. there is no way out for you and there never was. you couldn’t die if you wanted to. the narrative has a hold on you and it won’t let go. death is too sweet a doom for you. the story has something much worse in mind. there is no way out.
hey just a little reminder — sometimes when you’re in survival mode, living day by day is literally all you can do. it’s all you have space for. and then when you have the space and time and release to slowly start to come out of survival mode, you have to re-learn how to live with the future in mind. learning from your past. making your future self proud. doing things your future self will thank you for. and I don’t see a lot of people talking about how TERRIFYING that is. but it is. it’s really, really scary to plan and learn what healthy self discipline looks like and how to greet every version of yourself. and so if that’s you today — I’m very proud of you. there’s nothing shameful about relearning something. you’re doing so well! I’m so glad you got this far <3
im sorry i dont have time to participate in society. im too busy considering the humble worm
when i describe myself as evil i mean it primarily in the sense that i am an enemy of the church
One of the most dangerous things in the world is not being able to say no to people because you don't want to upset them or dissapoint them. This will completely ruin your life in every way possible, at work, in your private life, your sex life and your friendships. It's a way of removing your own consent in your own decisions and go against your wishes, it is always a crime against yourself. Let yourself have a say. Upsetting people is better than traumatizing yourself.
part of why i recognize little to no difference between so-called "recreational" vs "medical" drug use is because i recognize stress as a medical issue. mind-body dualism has us all convinced that stress is an ephemeral emotion that doesn't affect our bodies, but like daily stress, particularly if you're also disabled in some way, just Will Kill You. it can destroy your organs, overclock your brain, weaken your immune system... the effects of prolonged and consistent stress are underresearched (because then we'd have to question how we allocate labor. lmao), but they're there. if you use weed every day for no reason other than you need to force yourself to relax chemically so you can have fun and take your mind off stress, that is indistinguishable from medical use to me, having discarded mind-body dualism.
This (a quote from my book The Anthropocene Reviewed) was my overall attitude to the world until I was about 24. But it is no longer the way I look at the world.
It turns out that there is pleasure in simply giving what you have, even if--as is generally the case--what you have proves insufficient.
All my books have so many shortcomings. I am constantly running up against the limits of my talents. In other ways, they are good. Whatever is good in them comes from my willingness to go deep and be honest even when it is hard.
When I think of my work, it is hard to think of anything but its insufficiency. And yet, it's valuable to give as much as I can, whenever I can--not to "fulfill my potential" or whatever, but because we are only here for a little while, and there is more meaning in possibly cringe but earnest effort than there is in the cold pleasure of ironic disdain.
how do you know if your discharge is honorable or dishonrable& why do they look at your goo in the army anyway
