All men want, not something to do with, but something to do, or rather something to be.
Henry David Thoreau
Whenever someone who knows you disappears, you lose one version of yourself. Yourself as you were seen, as you were judged to be. Lover or enemy, mother or friend, those who know us construct us, and their several knowings slant the different facets of our characters like diamond-cutter’s tools. Each such loss is a step leading to the grave, where all versions blend and end.
— Salman Rushdie (via seabois)
I am all the time thinking about poetry and fiction and you.
To borrow a metaphor from the fossil-fuel age, our job is to inject pressure into the system. Marches aren’t subtle; they don’t lay out detailed manifestos. Movements work by making the status quo impossibly uncomfortable—by deploying people, arguments, metaphors, and images until our leaders have no choice but to change and, in so doing, release some of that pressure.
- me: i don't even care. i'm not going to talk about this anymore.
- me: and you know what else? [2000 word rant]