Once, a long long time ago, I met a man who told me things I have not yet been able to forget. These things number two. The first was that, upon closer inspection, I was not what he had expected. Knowing what I am, I wonder what he thought he saw, in me.
The other was that I stood up straight, so incredibly straight.
I often times fail to understand what he meant, until I hit that inevitable failure, of which there seem many as of late, and I find myself facing an uncomfortable truth, or a difficult problem, with this steadfast confidence that I can figure it out. This feeling, this unfazedness, comes from the same place that a ramrod back does.
There's no reason for this ramrod straightness, that sometimes I'm convinced is more an output of unbearable pride than any self-borne assuredness. I would not call myself confident. Cocky -- perhaps?
It is a thing, a something, though I don't know what, that keeps me upright, some underlying sensation of tension and relaxation. It is both a flight from the pain of slouching and also a self-flagellation of rigidity. It feels brittle. It feels steadfast.
Once, a long long time ago, I met a man who told me things I have not yet been able to forget.
some days I remember the lies you told me and i laugh at both of us at me, for wanting so badly to believe you at you, for having t...
A lot of scientific epistemology or historiography focus on the methodology of discovery, the paradigm shifts of humans and the viability an...
outlining, on the ground in blood chalk the structure of that thing that you need or feel that you need in order to feel full.
I had always thought that my brains were the ticket, the legs, the whole hog of the operation, that they would take me wherever I needed/wan...