- But if I was a small bird who could at least fly low outside the cage, that would be enough for me.
- Fall down seven times stand up eight.
exotic. shawol. vip. epik high. potterhead.
Katie - 17 - premed
I find it ironic how the least expensive forms of entertainment here (for me, at least) is partying or having really long and deep late night conversations. In terms of depth, these two activities are definitely on the opposite sides of the spectrum. At first I wasn’t very sure if I wanted to drink or party, but it’s actually really fun when I’m with good friends who aren’t judgmental or uncomfortable in that kind of setting. But I do want to have a balance between partying and conversations, leaning more towards the conversation side. It’s just something about the night that makes people more open and willing to express their thoughts and talk about their lives and ideals. And this kind of stuff can’t really be forced - it just sort of happens. What I like a lot about college is how the less I worry, the easier these kinds of experiences come. It’s nice.
Franz Kafka, the story goes, encountered a little girl in the park where he went walking daily. She was crying. She had lost her doll and was desolate.
Kafka offered to help her look for the doll and arranged to meet her the next day at the same spot. Unable to find the doll he composed a letter from the doll and read it to her when they met.
"Please do not mourn me, I have gone on a trip to see the world. I will write you of my adventures." This was the beginning of many letters. When he and the little girl met he read her from these carefully composed letters the imagined adventures of the beloved doll. The little girl was comforted.
When the meetings came to an end Kafka presented her with a doll. She obviously looked different from the original doll. An attached letter explained: “my travels have changed me… “
Many years later, the now grown girl found a letter stuffed into an unnoticed crevice in the cherished replacement doll. In summary it said: “every thing that you love, you will eventually lose, but in the end, love will return in a different form.”"
For me there are two wise lessons in this story: Grief and loss are ubiquitous even for a young child. And the way toward healing is to look for how love comes back in another form. - May Benatar
why isn’t there a middle finger emoji i swear i would use it 99% of the time
- Uwe Reinhardt, Princeton University economist (via numberneededtotreat)
O Captain! My Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! My Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up - for you the flag is flung - for you the bugle trills;
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths - for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
- Walt Whitman in 1865 (via travellerintime)