racetrak:

i hate derry girls because it’s definitely the funniest show ive ever seen but there’s a total of like 4 hours of content

so true it hurts

enricks:

the crushing guilt of being unproductive vs the exhaustion of being burned out. fight.

largishcat:

the people of DC are beautiful

Thinking about driving 3 hours to DC just to get a picture of this……

narcolepticdrugs:

A peaceful life here with the smell of old books is everything I want.

same same same

memoryslandscape:

“The most tragic form of loss […] is the loss of the capacity to imagine that things could be different.”

— Ernst Bloch, from The Principle of Hope (1954), (The MIT Press, 1986)

Anonymous asked: Hello! How are you?

4a0000-deactivated20180901:

moving from one crisis to another as elegantly as I can 

forestissilva:

For [Virginia] Woolf, getting lost was not a matter of geography so much as identity, a passionate desire, even an urgent need, to become no one and anyone, to shake off the shackles that remind you who you are, who others think you are. This dissolution of identity is familiar to travelers in foreign places and remote fastnesses, but Woolf, with her acute perception of the nuances of consciousness, could find it in a stroll down the street, a moment’s solitude in an armchair. Woolf was not a romantic, not a celebrant of that getting lost that is erotic love, in which the beloved becomes an invitation to become who you secretly, dormantly, like a locust underground waiting for the seventeen-year call, already are in hiding, that love for the other that is also a desire to reside in your own mystery in the mystery of others. Her getting lost was solitary, like Thoreau’s.

—Rebecca Solnit, from “Open Door,” A Field Guide to Getting Lost (Viking Adult, 2005)