Unconscious Social Biases

Good people are not those who lack flaws, the brave are not those who feel no fear, and the generous are not those who never feel selfish. Extraordinary people are not extraordinary because they are invulnerable to unconscious biases. They are extraordinary because they choose to do something about it.

Shankar Vedantam (via)

we know nothing

There must be another life, she thought, sinking back into her chair, exasperated. Not in dreams; but here and now, in this room, with living people. She felt as if she were standing on the edge of a precipice with her hair blown back; she was about to grasp something that just evaded her. There must be another life, here and now, she repeated. This is too short, too broken. We know nothing, even about ourselves.


The Years, Virginia Woolf

I'm walking on my heart, I'm walking on my future

Ooohhh, sometimes my heart is on the ground and it's me who is walking all over it

Steps by Planningtorock

i have the feeling one day this blog will only be about music...
i'm sincerely weary of words.

take me home

look and try to find the truth

In 1989, I first saw a John Cassavetes movie and it stunned me because I didn't know who this guy was and it changed my life. It really did. Shadows, Opening Night… all those movies about trying to find something and not knowing what you're looking for. And, I wanna dedicate this not just to John Cassavetes but also to Solomon Northup who inspired me to look and try to find the truth in whatever we try to find it in.

Steve McQueen accepts Best Director at the 2014 Film Independent Spirit Awards (via)

like a wastebasket full of waste paper, bits of hair, and rotting apple cores

I am feeling depressed from being exposed to so many lives, so many of them exciting, new to my realm of experience. I pass by people, grazing them on the edges, and it bothers me. I've got to admire someone to really like them deeply - to value them as friends. It was that way with Ann: I admired her wit, her riding, her vivacious imagination - all the things that made her the way she was. I could lean on her as she leaned on me. Together the two of us could face anything - only not quite anything, or she would be back. And so she is gone, and I am bereft for awhile. But what do I know of sorrow?


The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath, Sylvia Plath