InfiniteIdeation

Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab. Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end. Reality is the strip malls of Burbank, the smokestacks of Cleveland, a parking garage in Newark. Fantasy is the towers of Minas Tirith, the ancient stones of Gormenghast, the halls of Camelot. Fantasy flies on the wings of Icarus, reality on Southwest Airlines. Why do our dreams become so much smaller when they finally come true?

We read fantasy to find the colors again, I think. To taste strong spices and hear the songs the sirens sang. There is something old and true in fantasy that speaks to something deep within us, to the child who dreamt that one day he would hunt the forests of the night, and feast beneath the hollow hills, and find a love to last forever somewhere south of Oz and north of Shangri-La.

They can keep their heaven. When I die, I’d sooner go to Middle-Earth.

- George R.R. Martin  (via indisposablehero)

This is one of the most beautiful quotes I think I have ever read. I love it, and I will treasure it for my entire life.

(via draodoir-mna)

(Source: fourcolorfanboy)


You cannot selectively numb emotion. You can’t say, here’s the bad stuff. Here’s vulnerability, here’s grief, here’s shame, here’s fear, here’s disappointment. I don’t want to feel these. I’m going to have a couple of beers and a banana nut muffin…You can’t numb those hard feelings without numbing the other affects…So when we numb those, we numb joy, we numb gratitude, we numb happiness. And then we are miserable, and we are looking for purpose and meaning, and then we feel vulnerable, so then we have a couple of beers and a banana nut muffin. And it becomes this dangerous cycle.

Brené Brown

http://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_on_vulnerability.html

(via 691180)

(Source: yoga9vipassana)


Anarchism, Insanity, and Love

An anarchist appeals to nothing less than the idea of infinite human possibility.  For freedom to flourish, individuals must retain their own power; no government, no capitalist, and no god have the authority to circumscribe human life.  Yet these hierarchies are ubiquitous, so our consciousness and behavior mimic these power structures.  Our struggle is signified with impossible goals because the weight of human suffering demands it.  Freedom is life, and life is precious enough to die for.  So out of a love for life anarchists must persist in their insanity.