See Thru Skin

Rebecca. 17.
If you'd like to talk to me:
http://www.myspace.com/74537585

~ Thursday, November 26 ~

(via alltdor)

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~ Wednesday, November 25 ~

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

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~ Monday, November 23 ~

~ Sunday, November 22 ~

My first Sartre book, i’m so excited.

“Ah, I know you only too well, my poor boy. You daren’t admit it but you’re afraid that she’ll put a bullet through her skin. And the creature pretends to loathe anything romantic. One really might suppose you’d never seen that skin of hers. I wouldn’t dare touch it, for fear of scratching it. A doll with skin like that isn’t going to mess it up with a revolver shot.”

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“ Angst, sometimes called dread, anxiety or even anguish is a term that is common to many existentialist thinkers. It is generally held to be the experience of our freedom and responsibility. The archetypal example is the experience one has when standing on a cliff where one not only fears falling off it, but also dreads the possibility of throwing oneself off. In this experience that “nothing is holding me back”, one senses the lack of anything that predetermines you to either throw yourself off or to stand still, and one experiences one’s own freedom.

— Wikipedia: Existentialism, Angst

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~ Saturday, November 21 ~

“ …existentialism’s first move is to make every man aware of what he is and to make the full responsibility of his existence rest on him. And when we say that a man is responsible for himself, we do not only mean that he is responsible for his own individuality, but that he is responsible for all men.

—

Jean Paul Sartre

Sartre’s view of existentialism places an incredible amount of responsibility on every person. It rejects the helplessness and complacency people feel when confronting the ways things are. No power enslaves us so successfully as our own attitude and lack of effort. We are always in a position to resist evil, and we must, if humanity is to represent anything meaningful at all.

(via fuckyeahexistentialism)

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~ Friday, November 20 ~

I feel so troubled and restless. I wish I could help you, i’m trying desperately to think of how. I know you don’t like to talk about things and you think it’s lame when you say something nice. I just want you to know it sort of means a lot. I’m sorry I cried last night it wasn’t because of you it was just me over reacting about lots of different things. You probably should believe what I said though, about you. I’m sorry I don’t talk much.

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

Phil Elverum, you make me think too much. I admire you because of this.

~ Monday, November 16 ~

“Who called these dead to dance? Was it the young woman learning to play the ghost song on her baby grand? Was it the wilderness children? Was it the ghost God himself, stuttering, cheering, chatting blindly? I called you up to anoint the earth. I called you to announce sadness falling like burned skin. I called you to wish you well; to glory in self like a new monster.”

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~ Tuesday, November 10 ~