Looking for kindred spirits.
Hungarian artist Flóra Borsi showcases the unexpected beauty of coffee in her photo manipulation series Coffee Universe, blending urban skylines and natural landscapes with backdrops made up of creamy, caffeinated swirls.
1) “I had never had any desire to be a writer. I wanted to be a reader.”
2) “One thing you discover in psychoanalytic treatment is the limits of what you can change about yourself or your life. We are children for a very long time.”
3) “Fortunately, I never recovered from my…
shulammitegirl said: Dear Past Me,
Here is the trick — or rather, one of a thousand tricks I could swear are tried and true — that will save you.
Remember that nothing is forever.
Not the fog that covers everything. Not the sun that peaks through your eyelids. Not the calm before the storm. Not the cleaning up of the aftermath. Not the loneliness that curls itself up to sleep below your ribcage. Not the warmth of being surrounded.
Nothing is forever and you don’t even know yet.
She is your first taste of the word but she leaves you to fight your demons alone. And you don’t even cry forever. Later, you try to recall the details and you can’t recall any tears at all. You just soldier on. Your second try at forever eventually starts to crumble in your mouth and leaves a foreign taste. You survive your best bet unraveling.
Nothing is forever and you can’t even see it yet.
Everything is out of control and you think the world is going to spin this fast around you forever. I can’t tell you if it slows or if you just learn to run with the motion, but it doesn’t always make you this sick. You are not dizzy for the rest of your life. You are not even nauseous for the rest of the decade. It is not dark forever. Your life becomes bright enough to blind you.
You’re going to be humiliated and horrified and embarrassed and depressed and anxious and pushed around. You’re going to be elated and enlightened and so happy you don’t know what to do with yourself and brilliant and enthralled by everything around you. Everything will be terrible and everything will be wonderful and you’ll have entire months of which you’ll have no memory. It’s all a mess. It’s all glorious in its own way — most of it in retrospect but much of it in the moment. It’s all worth living and the great news is that you survive it all. Miraculously. Impossibly.
But even that won’t be forever.
And you eventually find comfort is knowing the clock is always ticking.
Frederic Leighton, The Fisherman and the Syren (c. 1857) // Arctic Monkeys, 505 (2007)
MINT STRAP FLATFORM SANDALS
A collection of eight confessions, hand written and court transcripts, of convicted criminals. It is then reduced to only those sentences were the criminal is talking about his or hers own emotions. The perpetrators personal landscape of guilt is revealed with no descriptions about the actual criminal act. The most extreme act of violence contains something that we can all recognize in ourselves; the inner psychological patterns of reasoning and justification, remorse and/or the lack of it.