(Source: claytoncubitt)
I walked through the mountains today. The weather was damp, and the entire region was grey. But the road was soft and in places very clean. At first I had my coat on; soon, however, I pulled it off, folded it together, and laid it upon my arm. The walk on the wonderful road gave me more and even more pleasure; first it went up and then descended again. the mountainous world appeared to me like an enormous theatre. The road snuggled up splendidly to the mountainsides. Then I came down into a deep ravine, a river roared at my feet, a train rushed past me with magnificent white smoke. The road went through the ravine like a smooth white stream, and as I walked on, to me it was as if the narrow valley were bending and winding around itself. Grey clouds lay on the mountains as though that were their resting place. I met a young traveller with a rucksack on his back, who asked if I had seen two other young fellows. No, I said. Had I come here from very far? Yes, I said, and went farther on my way. Not a long time, and I saw and heard the two young wanderers pass by with music. A village was especially beautiful with humble dwellings set thickly under the white cliffs. I encountered a few carts, otherwise nothing, and I had seen some children on the highway. We don’t need to see anything out of the ordinary. We already see so much.
(1914)
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from wikipedia:
“Robert Walser loved long, lonely walks. On the 25th of December 1956 he was found, dead of a heart attack, in a field of snow near the asylum. The photographs of the dead walker in the snow are almost eerily reminiscent of a similar image of a dead man in the snow in Walser’s first novel, Geschwister Tanner. In 2008 the British Artist and novelist Billy Childish completed a series of paintings, based on the life and death of Walser, whom Childish has cited as an influence on his own prose work.”
i like that there’s “fanny” in there.
and “god”.
After great pain a formal feeling comes—
The nerves sit ceremonious like tombs;
The stiff Heart questions—was it He that bore?
And yesterday—or centuries before?
The feet, mechanical, go round
A wooden way
Of ground, or air, or ought,
Regardless grown,
A quartz contentment, like a stone.
This is the hour of lead
Remembered if outlived,
As freezing persons recollect the snow—
First chill, then stupor, then the letting go.
emily dickenson
My friend Xeni Jardin, on her diagnosis with breast cancer
Cancer diagnosis’ are so romantic in the beginning, amiright?
They forget to tell you that if you do survive… you’ll have a newfound insight on life (that it’s meaningless except what you make of it)… but you’ll also have a new life of chronic pain, constant anxiety, PTSD, infertility, fatigue, social stigma, rad scars, and essentially feel as though you’re the walking dead… or the walking waiting to die.
In a way, the survivorship part is the hardest. It’s fucked. I’m fucked.
aw.
she ruined her own life when she started deceitfully soliciting friendship & gifts from tough-as-balls cancer patients.
But I suppose you wouldn’t realize that unless you’ve actually fought cancer, now would you?
NEVER FORGET.
It’s just ridiculous how mean you guys are to her! It makes you look bad, not her. I’m not saying what she did was not wrong: It was VERY wrong and I’m sorry that she hurt you guys. But you are just as bad as she is when you constantly try to ruin her life.
In 2012 I will have been blogging for 10 years, since age 16.
FUCK.
It’s really depressing going back and reading livejournal entries from throughout my young-adulthood. I realize how utterly bi-polar I’ve always been. I was suffering way, way before I even had cancer.
still suffering. but proud.
The moment when you realize the documentary crew following you is actually a reality show with an agenda… duh.
makes me really sad. I feel like I’ve given away my life. I am too trusting.
The Forest Shroud
A modern natural burial is an environmentally sustainable alternative to existing funeral practices where the body is returned to the earth to decompose naturally and be recycled into new life. The body is prepared for burial without chemical preservatives and is buried in a simple shroud or biodegradable casket.
Did you know that you literally have to learn how to be well again? You do. This isn’t something they tell you when you get sick. They hand you this diagnosis. A treatment plan. A prognosis. Statistics. Logistics. But what they don’t tell you is how to get on with your life once you are done. It’s…
it’s not easy. it’s worse than treatment. the chronic pain that plagues you, the meds & side effects, the ptsd, the fear always at your back- at least, that’s how it is for me. but now, you’ll be normal looking, mostly, reintegrated, and expected to meet the standards of your peers, family, employers, who deem you “cured”, but- you’re never quite cured. It is my new life-mission to educate people about this. I love the subjects you’ve been writing about lately!
