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July 27, 1914: Kafka struggles to eat a peach

Ate rice à la Trautmannsdorf and a peach. A man drinking wine watched my attempts to cut the unripe little peach with my knife. I couldn’t. Stricken with shame under the old man’s eyes, I let the peach go completely and ten times leafed through Die Fliegenden Blätter. I waited to see if he wouldn’t at last turn away. Finally I collected all my strength and in defiance of him bit into the completely juiceless and expensive peach.

baece

its been 105 years since kafka ate this terrible peach

pickledangel

franzkavkas

here’s to 107 years of awful peaches

franzkavkas

108 years of juiceless, expensive peaches

franzkavkas

110 year anniversary of an unripe little peach

heystephen

and now, some input from macklemore

heystephen

but in all seriousness, respect to macklemore for this because holy shit

no-limit123-deactivated20251220

Healing taught me that honesty wouldn't ruin a real thing. Speaking about your feelings won't lose you anything worth having. Setting boundaries won't scare off proper people. & authenticity won't cost you genuine relationships.

larysaint

love is a downfall (and yet,)

love of the wolf – hélène cixous (tr. keith cohen) // the union of souls – max zabinsky // il bacio – francesco hayez // monster movie – nicola maye goldberg // the confession – frank dicksee // i set it in stone – venetta octavia // paolo e francesca – gaetano previati // it's a circus and we all paid to be here – ashe vernon // monseigneur love – thomas cooper gotch // the affliction – marie howe

feral-ballad

Clarice Lispector, tr. by Stefan Tobler, from Água Viva

funeral

The little girl’s sense of secrecy that developed at prepuberty only grows in importance. She closes herself up in fierce solitude: she refuses to reveal to those around her the hidden self that she considers to be her real self and that is in fact an imaginary character: she plays at being a dancer like Tolstoy’s Natasha, or a saint like Marie Leneru, or simply the singular wonder that is herself. There is still an enormous difference between this heroine and the objective face that her parents and friends recognize in her. She is also convinced that she is misunderstood: her relationship with herself becomes even more passionate: she becomes intoxicated with her isolation, feels different, superior, exceptional: she promises that the future will take revenge on the mediocrity of her present life. From this narrow and petty existence she escapes by dreams.

Simone de Beauvoir, The Second Sex

keviinsito-deactivated20260512

deviika

Ernest Hemingway // Unknown

liones-s

one of the biggest things I can advocate for (in academia, but also just in life) is to build credibility with yourself. It’s easy to fall into the habit of thinking of yourself as someone who does things last minute or who struggles to start tasks. people will tell you that you just need to build different habits, but I know for me at least the idea of ‘habit’ is sort of abstract and dehumanizing. Credibility is more like ‘I’ve done this before, so I know I can do it, and more importantly I trust myself to do it’. you set an assignment goal for the day and you meet it, and then you feel stronger setting one the next day. You establish a relationship with yourself that’s built on confidence and trust. That in turn starts to erode the barrier of insecurity and perfectionism and makes it easier to start and finish tasks. reframing the narrative as a process of building credibility makes it easier to celebrate each step and recognize how strong your relationship with yourself can become