in scotland (by daniel fuchs)
DSC_0281 by victorgironarias on Flickr.
natgeotravel:

Reflections: A young boy casts a striking comparison to an aging man lost in a book on a ferry in Istanbul. 
Photograph by Merve Ates, National Geographic Your Shot
bazzerio:

Flowers in a coke bottle on Flickr.
Follow the photographer on Tumblr, Instagram and Flickr.
"Maybe it’s not metaphysics. Maybe it’s existential. I’m talking about the individual US citizen’s deep fear, the same basic fear that you and I have and that everybody has except nobody ever talks about it except existentialists in convoluted French prose. Or Pascal. Our smallness, our insignificance and mortality, yours and mine, the thing that we all spend all our time not thinking about directly, that we are tiny and at the mercy of large forces and that time is always passing and that every day we’ve lost one more day that will never come back and our childhoods are over and our adolescence and the vigor of youth and soon our adulthood, that everything we see around us all the time is decaying and passing, it’s all passing away, and so are we, so am I, and given how fast the first forty-two years have shot by it’s not going to be long before I too pass away, whoever imagined that there was a more truthful way to put it than “die,” “pass away,” the very sound of it makes me feel the way I feel at dusk on a wintry Sunday—… And not only that, but everybody who knows me or even knows I exist will die, and then everybody who knows those people and might even conceivably have even heard of me will die, and so on, and the gravestones and monuments we spend money to have pour in to make sure we’re remembered, these’ll last what— a hundred years? two hundred?— and they’ll crumble, and the grass and insects my decomposition will go to feed will die, and their offspring, or if I’m cremated the trees that are nourished by my windblown ash will die or get cut down and decay, and my urn will decay, and that before maybe three of four generations it will be like I never existed, not only will I have passed away but it will be like I was never here, and people in 2104 or whatever will no more think of Stuart A. Nichols Jr. than you or I think of John T. Smith, 1790 to 1864, of Livingston, Virginia, or some such. That everything is on fire, slow fire, and we’re all less than a million breaths away from an oblivion more total than we can even bring ourselves to even try to imagine, in fact, probably that’s why the manic US obsession with production, produce, produce, impact the world, contribute, shape things, to help distract us from how little and totally insignificant and temporary we are… The post-production capitalist has something to do with the death of civics. But so does fear of smallness and death and everything being on fire."

David Foster Wallace, The Pale King (via invisibleforeigner)

fujixfoto:

Sunset II.
"When men imagine a female uprising, they imagine a world in which women rule men as men have ruled women."

Sally Kempton

I feel this is very important.

(via yourenotsylviaplath)

It’s been apparent to me for a while that most men can’t really imagine “equality.”  All they can imagine is having the existing power structure inverted.

I cannot decide whether this shows how unimaginative they are, or shows how aware they must be of what they do in order to so deeply fear having it turned on them.

(via lepetitmortpourmoi)

"Most men can’t really imagine “equality.”  All they can imagine is having the existing power structure inverted."

(via misandry-mermaid)

(via boycrazypatriarchyhater)

disporum:

.0696 by hildagrahnat on Flickr.
My Wednesday night: grilled cheese, English breakfast tea, apple cider, and johndarnielle's new book, Wolf in White Van.
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