the air is balmy, the wind is gentle

River of Grass (1994) dir. Kelly Reichardt

the number of times i think about the full body viking skeleton i saw in the museum is ridiculous like when i say it haunts me i mean it actually haunts me

every time i remember the questions are endless — what was his name? what did his mother call him? what sounds did he wake up to? what sounds did he die to? how old was he when he died? how old when he fell in love? how old when he first fell out? who cried with him and laughed with him? who cried for him? how many miles of separation can i draw between my ancestors and him? was he kind, serious, jokey? was he sombre or impulsive? was he chatty and good-humoured or a cantankerous asshole? like…i have never stopped thinking about this.

the fact that at one point in time this was a living breathing person. with memories and petty hates and the dumbest jokes. and friends he loved. and the fact that he probably at some point burst out into drunken song or punched someone in an argument or GOT punched in an argument or tripped into the mud while his friends pissed themselves laughing or or or or…countless or‘s into infinity

and the fact that before all of that this massive skeleton was tiny toddler (was he scared of the dark? did he squabble with his siblings? did he have siblings?) who may or may not have hid behind his mother or probably got hoisted onto an adult’s shoulders and in his little mind thought this person was the strongest human in the world and that he could hold the whole sky up just by standing there like that and as long as he was up there he was king of the world or could be.

like…what am i supposed to do with this? what does ANYONE do with this? how are you supposed to cope with the enormity of this while at the same time realising just how tiny and fleeting our lives are? there is literally more than a THOUSAND years between us & ALL of it has been pinched down to a glass case not even 2 inches thick like…i’m losing my mind.

due to personal reasons I deeply wish that this autumn feels entirely like rebirth

sorry i stopped talking to you my anxiety convinced me that you hated me

“We’ve all known people who are cold, suspicious, mistrusting, unable to let go. These people are miserable, wretched. They can’t find joy because they can’t trust, they can’t have faith. You need faith to love, and you need to love to find joy. Faith, love, and joy are a package deal.”

- Peter Kreeft, Joy

i've read these sentences before but only in shit posts

Forgive the woman you once were and look forward to the one you are becoming.

set your past on fire and leave

— Vietnamese proverb

— Brene Brown (via yesdarlingido)

There’s apparently an Orthodox tradition that claims that, no matter how successful he was in converting people to Christianity, and no matter how humble and saintly a man he grew into, even after becoming Pope of Rome, Saint Peter would weep every time he heard the crowing of a rooster. Father Spyridon Bailey says we must take this example and “see ourselves as beginners in the spiritual journey, and always, always continue to see ourselves til our last breath as beginners in the spiritual journey. The minute we imagine we are humble, or virtuous, or dare we think saintly, we must take it as a sign that we are deluded.” There is never a moment where we don’t need our repentance and God’s forgiveness.

I'm sorry I just simply don't vibe with this work-driven capitalist society all I want is to live in a cottage, receive neck kisses and be the little spoon

sometimes i feel like im only alive for the sake of others