This is how you lose her.
You lose her when you forget to remember the little things that mean the world to her: the sincerity in a stranger’s voice during a trip to the grocery, the delight of finding something lost or forgotten like a sticker from when she was five, the selflessness of a child giving a part of his meal to another, the scent of new books in the store, the surprise short but honest notes she tucks in her journal and others you could only see if you look closely.
You must remember when she forgets.
You lose her when you don’t notice that she notices everything about you: your use of the proper punctuation that tells her continuation rather than finality, your silence when you’re about to ask a question but you think anything you’re about to say to her would be silly, your mindless humming when it is too quiet, your handwriting when you sign your name in blank sheets of paper, your muted laughter when you are trying to be polite, and more and more of what you are, which you don’t even know about yourself, because she pays attention.
She remembers when you forget.
You lose her for every second you make her feel less and less of the beauty that she is. When you make her feel that she is replaceable. She wants to feel cherished. When you make her feel that you are fleeting. She wants you to stay. When you make her feel inadequate. She wants to know that she is enough and she does not need to change for you, nor for anyone else because she is she and she is beautiful, kind and good.
You must learn her.
You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to.
You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept.
And, this is how you keep her
- This Is How You Lose Her || Junot Diaz (via 5000letters
They say they want politics out of video game coverage? OK, now we’re getting somewhere.
By politics, the voices calling for ethics reform really mean “progressive” politics. The so-called corruption that needs to be rooted out is a focus on “diversity” and the “magnitude of the human experience.” It should be no surprise that the outlets and voices specifically targeted by GamerGate are progressive. Baldwin was the first of several notable opportunists who, despite caring little for video games or video game culture, were more than happy to contribute to any movement that counted “SJWs” — that’s “social justice warriors,” for those of you out of the loop — as enemies. That “social justice warrior” is considered a pejorative at all speaks volumes about the motivations behind much of GamerGate and its fixation on progressive voices.
"I always wonder, what do other people do with their lives? Does their existence too seem to drag on like mine? Do they too need to hold their sanity like a glass box held tight to their chests, protecting it from the knocks of the world? What do they do, where do they hide when nothing makes sense? Or is it just me?"
"No. It’s not just you."
"So we all go about our lives hiding our cracks with peeling plaster, turning our heads from the dark in the hope that by doing so it will cease to exist? Is our universal brokenness an ineffable secret?"
maybe my heart was hungrier than this.
- Jeannine Hall Gailey,
"The Note the Fox-Wife Leaves Him," from She Returns to the Floating World
I know my being happy is an anomaly. No one knows me better than you. But I can say without avoiding your gaze, without crossing my fingers behind my back; or the other things I do when speaking untruthfully—I am happy. I know the rain does not discriminate between day or night and either will hold its own light and dark—but now, at this very moment, I feel like I am the sun. And I know in my heart, I will always look upon this time—not without a sense of melancholy—that it was the happiest in my life.
Physics says: go to sleep. Of course
you’re tired. Every atom in you
has been dancing the shimmy in silver shoes
nonstop from mitosis to now.
Quit tapping your feet. They’ll dance
inside themselves without you. Go to sleep.
Geology says: it will be all right. Slow inch
by inch America is giving itself
to the ocean. Go to sleep. Let darkness
lap at your sides. Give darkness an inch.
You aren’t alone. All of the continents used to be
one body. You aren’t alone. Go to sleep.
Astronomy says: the sun will rise tomorrow,
Zoology says: on rainbow-fish and lithe gazelle,
Psychology says: but first it has to be night, so
Biology says: the body-clocks are stopped all over town
History says: here are the blankets, layer on layer, down and down.
There may come a time, when people close to you will challenge you. Maybe you are experiencing the greatest peace you have ever experienced in your life, but still they are worried for you. You are happy and they are not, but still they are worried for you. They even meet together to discuss what is happening to you. You are happy, but they say that maybe you need to see a psychotherapist, because to them you don’t seem to be your old self, the one they project you to be. No one will understand you, not even the priests, because inside you don’t belong to anybody. So you have to be strong inside so that even if the whole world should reject you, you will say: ‘Thank you, this is fine, but you can never know me.’ Bless them with love and continue walking in the light of your own way.
“you don’t look depressed though”
oh yeah sorry i forgot to bring my literal dark cloud with me today