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March 25 2017

The wonderful thing about life as a biologist is that every individual — not just people or cats or dogs or horses — but all living things, even trees, are unique. Every being is unique. It’s just a fact. And certainly with fish, like birds, they all have a distinctive appearance and if you’re sharp enough to distinguish one from another you soon begin to see that they behave differently. If that’s personality, which I guess it is, each one has its own little quirks. For example, some fish are more aggressive, some are shy. And it’s wonderful spending thousands of hours under the ocean getting to know not just “the grand suite” or the kaleidoscope of life out there, but also to recognize all the individual pieces.

Should you stop eating fish? |

July 10 2015

[...] mówiła nie wiele, prawie nic, cichym, ciągnącym się głosem. W gruncie rzeczy była wściekle uparta, ale cała jej wola, nie skierowana do żadnego czynu, obracała się jakby przeciw niej samej. Była demonem, ale jedynie wobec samej siebie, i systematycznie niszczyła w sobie wszystko, co mogło ją do innego, bardziej czynnego życia pobudzić. Poza tym była niesłychanie dobrą, łagodną i do przesady delikatną. Wiedziała prawie zawsze ukryte myśli ludzi, którzy z nią mówili, a przynajmniej Bungo nic absolutnie ukryć przed nią nie umiał. Panny takie zdarzają się jeszcze czasem na Litwie, ale jest to rasa wymierająca.
— Stanisław Ignacy Witkiewicz "622 upadki Bunga"
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Myśleć to cierpieć, no powiedz mi, czy to myślenie coś mi kiedyś dało, czy poprawiło moją sytuację? Myślę i myślę, i myślę, myśleniem milion razy oddaliłem się od szczęścia, ale ani razu się do niego nie zbliżyłem.
— Jonathan Carroll, Oko dnia
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czemu nie mogłem poświęcić dość uwagi (…), Boże święty, Boże miłosierny, dlaczego nie można niczemu poświęcić uwagi, świat jest sto milionów razy za obfity i co ja pocznę z moją nieuwagą
— Kosmos, Witold Gombrowicz
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I put my hand on him. Touching him was always so important to me. It was something I lived for. I never could explain why. Little, nothing touches. My fingers against his shoulder. The outsides of our thighs touching as we squeezed together on the bus. I couldn’t explain it, but I needed it. Sometimes I imagined stitching all of our touches together. How many hundreds of thousands of fingers brushing against each other does it take to make love?

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close (Jonathan Safran Foer)

July 08 2015

-Młody przyjacielu, jedna jedyna rzecz dobrze by Ci zrobiła: gdybyś przestał myśleć.
— Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt, Kiedy byłem dziełem sztuki.
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– Kurt Vonnegut

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July 06 2015

I am sorry I tried calling you that one time
when I was drunk off loneliness and whiskey and Four Loko.

It’s just that your hands were so good at keeping
me together. My body still sometimes collapses into the shape

of your mouth. I am such a soft, malleable thing, and it has taken me
too long to realize that you are also this. More importantly,

that you are more than my memories. That you exist freely
and independently of my life. That my idea of you that crosses

my empty highway mind is not you. And with this, I am so sorry
for all the nights I tried to split your heart open just so

I had a place to rest. I did not understand how you were no
longer me anymore, how the you I had in me was a postcard

and not the city. Forgive the fury, the angry prayers tossed towards
the dark of my 3AM ceiling that were meant for your neck.

You were asleep that night where we started to break, and my skin
felt taut and sunburned, so red and wanting to scream, but Cassidy

told me that it makes sense that this was so frustrating. The rusting
of four years should make me mad. It meant I cared. And I still do.

And I still get the urge to hollow my arms so you can fit better, you
this new person who has grown and loved and spilled over into

a newer night. I forget so often that I can’t carry you like I once did,
and that you don’t know how to hold me anymore.

Even now, I’m still apologizing.

in which the poet tries to apologize again by Alex Dang!

July 02 2015

Chwilami zazdroszczę im takiego codziennego, nudnego szczęścia, tylko z tego powodu, że są razem i patrzą na rośliny. Ja nigdy nikomu nie umiałam dać spokoju. Sobie też.
— Osiecka do Przybory
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Po czwarte, nauczyłem się, że niektórzy ludzie są na zawsze, a niektórzy tylko sporadycznie, i że nie mam żadnego wpływu na to, kto będzie na zawsze, a kto od czasu do czasu.
— karpowicz
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23 Emotions people feel, but can’t explain

from iheartintelligence.com (via lovedbythesavior):

  1. Sonder: The realization that each passerby has a life as vivid and complex as your own.
  2. Opia: The ambiguous intensity of Looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable.
  3. Monachopsis: The subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place.
  4. Énouement: The bittersweetness of having arrived in the future, seeing how things turn out, but not being able to tell your past self.
  5. Vellichor: The strange wistfulness of used bookshops.
  6. Rubatosis: The unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat.
  7. Kenopsia: The eerie, forlorn atmosphere of a place that is usually bustling with people but is now abandoned and quiet.
  8. Mauerbauertraurigkeit: The inexplicable urge to push people away, even close friends who you really like.
  9. Jouska: A hypothetical conversation that you compulsively play out in your head.
  10. Chrysalism: The amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm.
  11. Vemödalen: The frustration of photographic something amazing when thousands of identical photos already exist.
  12. Anecdoche: A conversation in which everyone is talking, but nobody is listening
  13. Ellipsism: A sadness that you’ll never be able to know how history will turn out.
  14. Kuebiko: A state of exhaustion inspired by acts of senseless violence.
  15. Lachesism: The desire to be struck by disaster – to survive a plane crash, or to lose everything in a fire.
  16. Exulansis: The tendency to give up trying to talk about an experience because people are unable to relate to it.
  17. Adronitis: Frustration with how long it takes to get to know someone.
  18. Rückkehrunruhe: The feeling of returning home after an immersive trip only to find it fading rapidly from your awareness.
  19. Nodus Tollens: The realization that the plot of your life doesn’t make sense to you anymore.
  20. Onism: The frustration of being stuck in just one body, that inhabits only one place at a time.
  21. Liberosis: The desire to care less about things.
  22. Altschmerz: Weariness with the same old issues that you’ve always had – the same boring flaws and anxieties that you’ve been gnawing on for years.
  23. Occhiolism: The awareness of the smallness of your perspective.
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