Despise violence. Despise national vanity and self-love. Protect the territory of conscience.

Try to imagine at least once a day that you are not an American. Go even further: try to imagine at least once a day that you belong to the vast, the overwhelming majority of people on this planet who don't have passports, don't live in dwellings ( Read more... )

Another good essay to save:

Around 25 or 26 you will decide to really feel the rain on your skin. It may hurt. By this time, you have already made the big move from your parents’ nest. You’ll look around, survey your life and decide what to carry with you. Who to carry with you. This is the first time you let go of living life by reaction.

Make ( Read more... )

"There is so little time.  This is all the time I've got.  This is mine, this small parcel of years, that threatens to spill over on to the pavement and be lost among careless feet.  Lost.  The water out of the sieve and the river runs dry.  The quietly contained sea where the waters don't break.

"I want to run up the hill in the freedom of the wind ( Read more... )

"You say there are no words to describe this time, you say it does not exist.  But remember.  Make an effort to remember.  Or, failing that, invent."
--Monique Wittig, Les Guerilleres (1971)

Putting this here so I don't lose track of it, because it's wonderful.

The useless days will add up to something. The shitty waitressing jobs. The hours writing in your journal. The long meandering walks. The hours reading poetry and story collections and novels and dead people’s diaries and wondering about sex and God and whether you should ( Read more... )

"Let's face it. We're undone by each other. And if we're not, we're missing something. If this seems so clearly the case with grief, it is only because it was already the case with desire. One does not always stay intact. It may be that one wants to, or does, but it may also be that despite one's best efforts, one is undone, in the face of the ( Read more... )