[radical-revolution]

[syn4k]

ok note to self i gotta leave the house regularly so that i dont feel like im slowly transforming into an evil fucking shadow clone of myself

[syn4k]

So as it turns out your sense of self doesnt exist in a vacuum. You gotta actually use it and bounce it off of other people like echolocation to see where you are as a person and shit. So if you dont regularly interact with other people the echoes just get weaker and weaker and before you know it your personality is a blurry fucked up fog clone of its former self. which it sucks because this makes it really hard to interact with people again but yknow

[funeral]

In today's state of hyperactivity, where boredom is not allowed to emerge, we never reach the state of deep mental relaxation. The information society is an age of heightened mental tension, because the essence of information is surprise and the stimulus it provides. The tsunami of information means that our perceptual apparatus is permanently stimulated. It can no longer enter into contemplation. The tsunami of information fragments our attention. It prevents the contemplative lingering that is essential to narrating and careful listening . . . In the process of digitalization, . . . information acquires an altogether different status. Reality itself takes on the form of information and data. For the most part, we perceive reality in terms of information or through the lens of information. Information is an idea—that is, a re-representation. When reality takes the form of information, the immediate experience of presence withers. When digitalization gives everything the form of information, reality is flattened.

Byung-Chul Han, The Crisis of Narration

[thirdity]

“It is true that I never leave my house, but it is also true that its doors (whose number is infinite) stand open night and day to men and also to animals. Anyone who wishes to enter may do so.”

— Jorge Luis Borges, “The House of Asterion”

[weltenwellen]

Geography Lessons Joy Sullivan

[funeral]

Time has but one reality, the reality of the instant. Otherwise put, time is a reality confined to the instant and suspended between two voids. Although time will no doubt be reborn, it must first die. It cannot transport its being from one instant to another in order to forge a duration. The instant is already solitude . . . It is solitude in its barest metaphysical value. Yet an even more poignant solitude confirms the tragic solitude of the instant: through a sort of creative violence, time limited to the instant isolates us not only from others but even from ourselves, since it breaks with our most cherished past.

Gaston Bachelard, Intuition of the Instant

[proustiansleep]

"The human circadian rhythm is both defined by biology and dependent on context. From a series of popular cave studies, where subjects were placed in experimental conditions of total darkness and isolation, we know that the body has an innate rhythm. Biologists have identified its genetic basis in a gene called the CLOCK gene (Circadian Locomotor Output Cycles Kaput). But without access to environmental cues like sunlight or social cues like an alarm clock—cues called Zeitgetbers, or “time givers”—the rhythm doesn’t sync to a twenty-four-hour day. Our circadian clocks affect most bodily processes, from digestion and metabolism to detoxification, blood pressure, and hormone fluctuation. Among all the Zeitgebers, sunlight is by far the most crucial for setting the clock. In simple terms, human health requires a regular daily pattern on local time. 

Yet around the world, few are exposed to bright sunlight or total darkness. We’re not living in caves—we’re living in screen-lit bedrooms, fluorescent-lit offices, stadium-lit highways, always-lit factories; in warehouses, malls, movie theaters, and arcades. Over 80 percent of the global population is subject to some degree of light pollution at night, and 20 percent work night hours, likely missing morning sunlight. At this point a large proportion of us are living in a state that could be called permanent jet lag. When capitalist logic overrides both the body’s inclinations and the sun’s rotation, it essentially pulls the body into another time zone.

Alex Rivera’s 2008 film Sleep Dealer, a cyberpunk fable in which workers in Tijuana sell their labor hours to operate robots across a border they cannot cross, captures this sense of how working conditions create artificial time zones. Among the movie’s many other insights, which are to me startlingly and almost spookily relevant nearly twenty years after its release, is the revelation that the destruction of circadian time is the logical end point and the goal of extractive capitalism. ... Sleep Dealer shows what happens when the 24/7 economy treats the body clock as an inconvenience to be overcome" —Elvia Wilk, Against the Clock: Remote Work, Stolen Sleep, and the Limits of Extraction

[fravery]

Where Time Slows Down. Kaoru Yamada

[riverbird]

"I have long been fascinated by how people understand themselves using landscape, by the topographies of self we carry within us and by the maps we make with which to navigate these interior terrains. We think in metaphors drawn from place and sometimes those metaphors do not only adorn our thought, but actively produce it. Landscape, to borrow George Eliot’s phrase, can ‘enlarge the imagined range for self to move in’. As I envisage it, landscape projects into us not like a jetty or peninsula, finite and bounded in its volume and reach, but instead as a kind of sunlight, flickeringly unmappable in its plays yet often quickening and illuminating. We are adept, if occasionally embarrassed, at saying what we make of places – but we are far less good at saying what places make of us. For some time now it has seemed to me that the two questions we should ask of any strong landscape are these: firstly, what do I know when I am in this place that I can know nowhere else? And then, vainly, what does this place know of me that I cannot know of myself?" Robert Macfarlane, The Old Ways: A Journey on Foot

[remanence-of-love]

[nixscriptum]

[disc80s]

“you can’t forget your mother tongue” okay but have you considered bilinguals and polyglots whose first language isn’t english and whose development during adolescence was shaped by consuming content and media only in english and have ever since viewed that second language, foreign to their own, as a better outlet for their emotions and thoughts? as Yiyun Li said “it is hard to feel in an adopted language, yet impossible in my native language.”

[disc80s]

from Yiyun Li’s To Speak Is To Blunder

[radical-revolution]

Hakanai (儚い) is a profound Japanese word that translates to fleeting, transient, or fragile. More deeply, it describes the poetic beauty of impermanence—appreciating something fully, even while knowing it will not last.

[loveridden1999]

anyways remember when toni morrison said "sometimes you don't survive whole, you just survive in part. but the grandeur of life is that attempt. it's not about that solution. it is about being as fearless as one can, and behaving as beautifully as one can, under completely impossible circumstances."

[the-most-humble-blog]

The Fear Tax Every opportunity costs something. Cowards just pay in advance and never collect the reward.

[fravery]

Sea and Sky. Ricardo Magatti

[fravery]

'Ocean and dreams" by Lee Mothes