someday, life will feel like more than just surviving the day
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@journalithings
someday, life will feel like more than just surviving the day
Enemy (2013) dir. Denis Villeneuve
In a Lonely Place (1950) dir. Nicholas Ray
the iconic gif set from the iconic film
Colette, from a letter to Georges Wague, written in 1918, featured in Letters of Colette
Just because I pretended to handle it well doesn't mean that I did.
These days, all I talk about and think about is the cognitive dissonance required to move through the world. Increasingly, I struggle to disentangle my many selves, to get on with the day. All my selves weep often. I try to have grace. I tell my friends that I’m no longer sure how anyone just drifts through the days, the months, without acknowledging the horrors. I imagine what it must be like to be able to turn off the parts of the world that unsettle you. It must feel like existing in an animated universe that adheres to cartoon physics: you fall from an inconceivable height and, landing, a cloud of dust billows up from the ground, but then you shake yourself off and keep moving.
Hanif Abdurraqib, from Zohran Mamdani and Mahmoud Khalil are in on the Joke
thresholds
There are thresholds we cross without noticing—
a hallway we don’t remember entering,
a conversation that becomes confession,
a quiet decision that changes the walls around us.
thresholds and me
I have learned to pause at doorways.
Not to hesitate, but to ask a simple question:
What am I bringing with me?
A kindness? Or a bitterness?
You see, rooms remember. People do, too.
What we carry through the door becomes part of the room.
And so I have started a practice.
Before entering, I pause—just long enough to set something down.
A complaint I don’t need to voice.
A resentment I don’t need to drag with me.
A weight that only distorts the space I’m about to enter.
Because not every burden deserves to accompany me.
So today I left one on the sill.
And stepped inside with only what I hoped would endure:
steadiness, a listening heart,
and the patience to let silence do its work.
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Source: thresholds
Pajicalek
(In My Worst Nightmares I Am) Toothless by @JaredSingerwriter, from their book Forgotten Necessities.
you've waited for nothing
“Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word.”
— George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones
the devil wears pandora
becky with the good hair
doesn't wear prada
parading her peacock self about
like the devil incarnate.
out on the hunt for the blood
of men she'll never give her love to
but they, the deceived
by she, the jezebel,
a delilah if you will.
chock-full of ulterior motives
to ensure the conceited triumph
of her selfish self.
harnessing the carnal allure
of muliebrity to whip
weak men into compliance.
crumbling at her feet,
dirtying their hands
whilst she claims all the credit
for their concupiscent toil.
how she would smile in my face,
stab me in the back
and sometimes even
look me dead in the eye,
self-absorbed as ever,
engrossed in the
masturbatory indulgence
of her ego.
betraying a so-called friend,
much to the gaze of onlookers
who bite their tongues
in her presence.
and make pretend to render
her comportment acceptable,
inconspicuous even.
knowing how she wrongs me.
flashing her gnashers of malevolence
taunting me
as she smiles and waves,
all the while knowing
my heart was breaking .
a real bitch if I ever did see one,
an absolute cunt if you will.
the devil I know wears pandora.
and the charms adorned
pon her wrist are
just as tacky as she will
always be.
some will say
it's not that deep,
but she knew better.
better still,
she knew it mattered
to me.
“It takes a huge effort to free yourself from memory.”
— Paulo Coelho