“Long before morning I knew that what I was seeking to discover was a thing I’d always known. That all courage was a form of constancy. That it is always himself that the coward abandoned first. After this all other betrayals come easily.”
“The truth about the world, he said, is that anything is possible. Had you not seen it all from birth and thereby bled it of its strangeness it would appear to you for what it is, a hat trick in a medicine show, a fevered dream, a trance bepopulate with chimeras having neither analogue nor precedent, an itinerant carnival, a migratory tentshow whose ultimate destination after many a pitch in many a mudded field is unspeakable and calamitous beyond reckoning.
The universe is no narrow thing and the order within it is not constrained by any latitude in its conception to repeat what exists in one part in any other part. Even in this world more things exist without our knowledge than with it and the order in creation which you see is that which you have put there, like a string in a maze, so that you shall not lose your way. For existence has its own order and that no man’s mind can compass, that mind itself being but a fact among others.”
― Cormac McCarthy, Blood Meridian, or the Evening Redness in the West
Is adulthood just this really well-planned, highly informed, slow-paced sadness?
The amount of times I think to myself yeah, but fuck, of course it’s like this is truly amazing. It’s like the only dragon left is admitting we don’t need knights anymore.
Oh whatever, who fucking cares, right?
Shout out to Matt Tuff and Shira! Hugs to Garp, Vpache, Rosie and everyone else. I don’t know anymore.
And so many other people!
Snowness! Kris! Ecksjay! Lindsay! Quentin! Yo’Quil! Erica! Glen! Brittany! Tall Bob! Ivan Loose Hook! Marcus! Emma! Eyepatch! Dr. Long Gone! Three foot! Kam! P mouth! Gilmo! Dave! Nino Brown! Stephen Green Mile!
I honestly think half the secret is forgetting about trying to be good and just working on being able to appreciate how good everyone else is. That shit is sustainable and lovely and not something you need to fret about.
Humility isn’t beautiful people trying to convince themselves they’re not beautiful. It isn’t smart people trying to tell themselves they’re not that smart. It isn’t kind people saying they’re not that kind. Perfect humility would be looking at the thing in and of itself, no personal bias. Appreciating things for what they are, no more, no less—regardless of whether or not you yourself are involved in the thing being appreciated. Humility is defeating our self-interested bias in our assessment of things—it’s not insisting on absurdities and lies. Beautiful people are beautiful. After all, humility and truth should be friends, right?