In the past weeks I’ve read a lot about the psychology of things. Yeah, let’s just say that. Or I could do myself a favor and make this whole post a lot more interesting by saying “the psychology of willpower, self-control and other self-helpyish stuff”.
So one thing I learned is that dopamine is an asshole hormone that makes you want stuff and makes you keep doing something even if it doesn’t even feel good. (Checking Facebook, anyone?) Of course, dopamine has its good uses – without it people turn sluggish, hopeless and depressed, unable to imagine anything giving joy. Continue reading
A lonely planet dances in its trail around the sun, its only companion a gray moon dragging along beside it. The other planets have many moons accompanying them – the little orbs seem to flood around them. Well, apart from those two planets, Mercury and Venus, but they’ve got enough in themselves and the sunrays.
“If only I were Jupiter,” the lonely planet thinks, “with a mass and gravitation larger than all the combined planets, and still so beautiful and light, consisting only of swirling gasses and winds. Or if I cannot be a Jupiter, let me be one of its moons.” Continue reading
”Why is this such a big deal?” Billy’s arms crossed over his green rain jacket and the material screeched with every movement. “It was a game and he wanted to play.”
The woman across the table had her hair in a high knot and there were glasses on her pointy nose. With her lips pursed she looked like she’d release a tongue, snatch him like a fly and eat him.
“Are you sure Geoffry wanted to play a game like that?”
Billy wiped his nose with a hand and dried it in his rain jacket. Screech. “He always wants to play with us. That’s all he ever says. ‘Can I play with you, can I play with you, I’m a really good pirate’. But you can’t be a pirate if you’re in a wheelchair!” Continue reading
This isn’t working anymore. I discovered you on a night of adventure, when trying something new seemed appropriate. I thought you’d be sticky and weird but you weren’t. You were yummy and creamy and perfect on my carrots.
And for a time it was all good.
When I felt the need for a little sugar I went to you and filled myself with your goodness.
When I was hungry for more you ended my cravings.
It was all good because you belonged to the organic section and you were 99% pure with only a little salt for spice. Oh, it was good, and with 22% protein you were all the beef I needed. Continue reading
Who am I?
My story’s not important. I’ve lived with IBS since late 2011 and after months of pain and no help from the medicinal world I took the future into my own hands. My sporadic research has led me to knowledge every person with IBS ought to know. This quick run-through should help anyone, new or old to the topic, on their quest to health. I am NOT a health professional. The idea here is to give you all the information 1,5 – 3 years of research on the internet will give you. Continue reading
Considering the personal nature of the blog, and the nature of the somewhat less-important-in-the-larger-scale-of-things topics I usually discuss (which, obviously, I find perilously important for life), it makes sense to write about the recent carcrash I experienced.
Which angle should I take on? The adrenaline kicking my perception of life into another frame? The fright of setting a foot outside my door and the general pile of arguments against ever doing so? The relieved, almost religious, realization that everything is all right?
It matters little. The whole affair passes quickly and the most interesting thing about it was that right after hearing the crash, and being pushed forward and then pulled back by the seatbelt, my first thought was: “Now dad has another thing to worry about. How should I break this to him?”
My next thought was whether anything had happened to my back and if I’d be able to compete in the pole championship next week.
Such trivial thoughts, but they put life and the accident in a neat frame, the frame called “narrow, personal perspective”. It’s what a writer calls Point Of View. And so we can give it different names and argue about the meaning of a perfectly meaningless incident.
To quote Austen: “The whole thing will pass – no doubt faster than it should.”
(By the way, nobody was hurt)
The letter you wrote me was sweet as cherry, and so was the mark of your lips, which particularly startled my heart. I’ll cherish it, always.
I hope one day to see your real lips, but that day will not be after I slay the dragon that has imprisoned you – because I will do no such thing.
Here’s an idea: slay the dragon yourself. There’s probably a bunch of swords laying around. Perhaps the dragon uses them as toothsticks. Use one of those. Continue reading
My friend, O: My parents help me too much. Sometimes my sister and I have to be like “stop it, dad, let us take care of ourselves.” We have to grow up, you know?
Me: I get it.
O: And then I just think … wow, I’m lucky to have such parents. They’ll catch me if I fall.
Me: yeah, we’re very lucky. Do you ever think about that? We’re upper middleclass without traumas, non-divorced parents – irony underscored by the fact that I’m saying non-divorced and not still-together parents – white women
O: in the best time to be a woman!
Me: Exactly! We’re white, straight women from upper middleclass and ee have all this technology, all these possibilities. Our part of the world isn’t involved in any crazy wars, we’re both getting educations we really like and we’ll probably live pretty solid lives throughout.
O: Yup. We’re so ordinary.
Me: *Laughter* I know a few people who would disagree.
O: *Frown* Yes. And they’d be correct. In fact, we’re not ordinary at all. As I said, we’re lucky. Privileged is the word.
Me: You’d think I’d be bored at this prospect, but to be honest I’m just sort of looking forward to it.
What would it be like if everyone changed sex at the age of 20?
If the human body naturally matured into the opposite sex what kind of repercussions would it have on our world?
Girls taught to be timid would suddenly face the pressure of being a go-getter. Girls who were called bitchy or bossy would seize their new opportunities with gusto.
Boys taught to never cry or show emotion would be put in a sensitive position. Would they struggle with being the less dominant role? Would they search out the bossy-wife-stereotype? Mother knows best?
How about boys who loved sports but are now held back from doing their best? Continue reading
We saved our little world and of course that was great. People who would have been cold in their grave, or too torn apart for just one grave, went about their lives, complaining over late hours, incompetent staff and cold dinners.
We did a lot of good, the seven of us, but it felt wrong. Every day was a rosebush in my heart, each victim saved a beautiful flower and each word from my comrades a thorn. Inside my heart.
The worst kind of thing was like when a hishi spirit came towards me and I knew that now, now was when I’d die. Continue reading