On Joan Rivers

Sometimes it takes more than 140 characters to get your point across.

I’ve never been a fan of Joan Rivers’ comedy because it’s mean. She relied on shock value for attention and she depended on cruelty for laughter. I do not watch or support “Fashion Police” for the same reasons: it’s unnecessarily harsh and it propagates shallowness and hierarchy. Also, I’m a firm believer in that everybody should be able to wear whatever the fuck they want without criticism. It’s called self expression, which is a version of freedom of speech. So, according to the transitive property (thanks 8th grade geometry), self expression is a human right.

However, I have never heard Joan’s earlier things and I’ve heard they were good. I’ve heard they weren’t mean. I think, maybe, as her celebrity waned she resorted to saying inflammatory things for attention. The more famous and beloved the celebrity she tore apart, the more she stayed in the spotlight. But as humans we get desensitized; we get bored. So Joan had to ‘up’ her game. She thought she had to get exponentially meaner to keep us exponentially interested.

I do know that her husband committed suicide (please refrain from rude comments regarding this topic), and I do know that she has said her one regret in life was that she had no one to say ‘remember when’ to. She had no one who stuck around long enough for her to reminisce with. Now, that may be her fault; in fact, it probably is. But her remorse at having no one is enough to know she wished she could have had someone which is enough to know she wished she knew HOW to have someone.

Some people struggle with love, with intimacy. Some people have never been shown love so they don’t know how to love.

So when someone is cruel, consider these factors. Try showing that person love, for that person might not know what love is. Do not give up on that person, for it might take that person some time. And always consider insecurities- would Joan have needed to stay in the spotlight so badly if she didn’t have an enormous hole inside of her soul in need of such filling? Some choose drugs, some choose food, Joan chose fame (and plastic surgery).

Our job as humans is not to point out the holes in others but to fill them.

So don’t hate, my friends. Don’t hate even the haters. Love them, as that is the least- and the most- we can do.

Because when now runs out all that’s left is never.

So, go, my sweet one. Go.

"Some of them are coincidences." -I <3 the Huckabees

If some of them are coincidences then all of them are coincidences. When a series of events results in a positive outcome it’s not fate, it’s just a positive coincidence.

Everything, or nothing, is a coincidence.

There are no isn’ts, just isn’t yets

Keep Less, Have More

I just passed a row of bushes with a scent so lovely that the breeze carried it to me across the street. After an errand, I returned to the bushes to inhale more deeply- they smelled like lilac, the flowers my mom used to grow when I was little. Without thinking, I plucked a flower from one of the bush’s branches to keep. But I instantly felt bad.

I hurt the whole plant to keep only what I loved about it. And keep? Why did I need to keep the scent? Is it not enough to appreciate it for what it is and move on, storing the experience in my memory?

Why do humans have such a natural inclination to keep, regardless of the harm done to the keep-ee? If we love something, then how is it possible that we instinctively disregard that thing’s preferences in order to cram it into our own, preference-filled lives?

If you love it, don’t just set it free, refuse to keep it in the first place.

What we admire we do not need to own. We can admire it from afar, where it is guaranteed to be more beautiful.

What you take to keep will die and what you allow to be at peace will flourish.

Keep less, have more.

I was looking at modern art, and this lady’s photos of the backs of women’s heads. 

When it occurred to me that it is all bullshit. 

It’s all art, but it’s all bullshit.

Everything is art. Everything is bullshit.

I think.

Photos of lady heads: http://cnnphotos.blogs.cnn.com/2014/03/06/a-different-view-of-women/

Stackable Cups

You never hear anyone say “best thing since stackable cups.” Which is a shame, because I bet stackable cups were just as big a revolution in convenience as sliced bread.

Pink and green converse

Something to think about….

Your pretensions are your reality. It’s the reality that you create, and what one creates is real. It doesn’t matter what’s real underneath the pretension, because only what is real is what you show. 

We create our own realities. And pretending is real. 


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You don’t need a museum to see art and you don’t need a church to feel god. Art is god and god is art and they are both found in everyone and everything.

“I have lived a thousand lives and I’ve loved a thousand loves. I’ve walked on distant worlds and seen the end of time. Because I read.”
— George R.R. Martin (via moreofamore)

(via moreofamore)

“Thoughts create a new heaven, a new firmament, a new source of energy, from which new arts flow.”
— Paracelsus (via moreofamore)

(via moreofamore)