“Before you know it it’s 3 am and you’re 80 years old and you can’t remember what it was like to have 20 year old thoughts or a 10 year old heart.”—This is the scariest fucking text post I’ve ever read (via bl-ossomed)
“Does the sun ask itself, “Am I good? Am I worthwhile? Is there enough of me?” No, it burns and it shines. Does the sun ask itself, “What does the moon think of me? How does Mars feel about me today?” No it burns, it shines. Does the sun ask itself, “Am I as big as other suns in other galaxies?” No, it burns, it shines.”—Andrea Dworkin, Our blood: prophecies and discourses on sexual politics (1976)
me:
I can't stop thinking about how birds don't remember a time before roads. Like, birds have no written history or oral tradition. As far as any bird is concerned, This is how the world has Always been and they're just tryin' to make it like the rest of us. They just keep on keepin' on. Birds have no idea there used to be so much more for them. So much forest and food abundant, so they just live in this era the best they can without the burdensome knowledge of the life they could have lived and I find that both fortunate and sad.