"I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope
For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love,
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing."
Public shoutout of mad fondness and love for Linsey, who is one of the most dependable people I know even tough we don’t directly commuicate often, and because I found an ask from a whole fucking year ago I don’t think I ever answered about understanding a personal thing I wrote which i would like frame probably and an even older one about the line ”I’m me now, and I always am. But I’m never me,” that I definitely did not answer but think about very often
when you read my dear future me letters, the bits about vague other readers than future/past mes I pretty much always write with you in mind.
It hasn’t been a while, this time.
"Tormented by universal love, you, too, would then start praying to the birds, as if in a sort of ecstasy, and entreat them to forgive you your sin. Cherish this ecstasy, however senseless it may seem to people."
rereading the social contract because the brothers karamazov is at my parents and god fucking shit younger me was a fucking idiot is wear to god 90% of this experience is me writing shit like “DUMBASS LIBERTY IS CHOICE LOOK AT YOUR OWN NOTE ON PG 8” and “you fuck” with arrows drawn to stupid things i once wrote and also marvelling at the actual marginalia on a footnote that reads “are you bitter, sir” (yes, rousseau is bitter but i think that’s an enlightenment thing)
i guess i got a lot more patient and can bear the theoreticals better or else i just also hate walter grotius almost as much as (never could match) rousseau idk