let it all be done, or at least let us be done with it.
Misplaced Lens Cap

blake kathryn
DEAR READER
Stranger Things

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Origami Around

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
ojovivo
dirt enthusiast
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Game of Thrones Daily
sheepfilms
Sade Olutola
i don't do bad sauce passes
Keni
KIROKAZE

PR's Tumblrdome
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
hello vonnie
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

seen from Poland
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seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
seen from Chile
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Singapore

seen from Netherlands
seen from Italy

seen from Türkiye
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@schizo-eye
let it all be done, or at least let us be done with it.
remember to always feel trapped by your decisions
We're riddled with pointless talk, insane quantities of words and images. Stupidity's never blind or mute. So it’s not a problem of getting people to express themselves but of providing little gaps of solitude and silence in which they might eventually find something to say. Repressive forces don't stop people expressing themselves but rather force them to express themselves; what a relief to have nothing to say, the right to say nothing, because only then is there a chance of framing the rare, and ever rarer, thing that might be worth saying
Gilles Deleuze, Negotations, 1985
“There is no such thing as data-driven thinking. Only calculation is data driven. The negativity of the incalculable is inscribed in thinking. As such, it is prior and superordinate to “data” which means “things given”.”
— Byung-chul Han, The Agony of Eros
Vladimir Yakovlev, Cat with red eyes, 1980s
THE GHOST DANCE, AN INTERVIEW WITH JACQUES DERRIDA By ANDREW PAYNE AND MARK LEWIS
“Individuals find a real name for themselves only through the hardest exercise in depersonalization, by opening themselves up to multiplicities everywhere within them, to the intensities running through them. A name [one’s own name, speaking for yourself in your own name] as the direct awareness of such intensive multiplicity is the opposite of the depersonalization effected by the history of philosophy; it’s depersonalization through love rather than subjection. What one says becomes from the depths of one’s ignorance, the depths of one’s own underdevelopment. One becomes a set of liberated singularities, words, names, fingernails, things, animals, little events.”
— Gilles Deleuze, “Letter to a Harsh Critic” in Negotiations 1972-1990
L'Été / Summer (1968) dir. Marcel Hanoun
“If you have patience enough to search, maybe you’ll catch a glimpse of what you’re looking for. And when you find it, you’ll probably be disappointed. It isn’t the devil. It isn’t the State. It isn’t a magical child. It’s the void.”
— Roberto Bolaño, Between Parentheses
“I don’t have much time, I have to haul corpses. I don’t have much time, I have to breath, eat, drink, sleep. I don’t have much time, I have to keep the gears meshing. I don’t have much time, I’m busy living. I don’t have much time, I’m busy dying.”
— Roberto Bolaño, 2666
Clarice Lispector, The Passion According to G.H.
I say again, out of the sheer joy of being alive: salvation comes through risk—without that, life is not worth living! Happy New Year.
— Clarice Lispector, Too Much of Life
Perhaps what happened to me was an understanding. I have to keep on being unable to grasp it, keep on not understanding it. All sudden understanding closely resembles an acute incomprehension. No. All sudden understanding is finally the revelation of an incute incomprehension. Each moment of finding is a getting lost.
Clarice Lispector, The Passion According to G.H. (1964, 8)
The truth doesn't make sense, the greatness of the world restricts me. What I probably asked for and finally got, left me needy as a child wandering the earth alone.
Clarice Lispector, The Passion According to G.H. (1964, 11)
Lately many years have passed.
Clarice Lispector, from a book dedication to Fernando Sabino featured in Letters Close to the Heart
Lisa Feldman Barrett, How Emotions Are Made