Meh.
In 2010, at a cost of $300 million, 800 miles of fiber-optic cable was laid between the Chicago Mercantile Exchange and the New York Stock Exchange to shave three milliseconds off trading times. Yet within this world of instant and absolute communication, unbounded by limits of time or space, we suffer from unprecedented alienation. We have never been more detached from one another, or lonelier.
(via the-feature)
(Source: clnhll)
You don’t owe prettiness to anyone. Not to your boyfriend/spouse/partner, not to your co-workers, especially not to random men on the street. You don’t owe it to your mother, you don’t owe it to your children, you don’t owe it to civilization in general. Prettiness is not a rent you pay for occupying a space marked “female”.
I’m not saying that you SHOULDN’T be pretty if you want to. (You don’t owe UN-prettiness to feminism, in other words.) …
"“Solitude, I’m doing fine
I dance alone
with my head high
Oh soltiude it’s all sublime
to swing along
the choice is mine
to wait my lover’s plane
delay my love, I’ll wait. “
Chinese Ink
Work in progress.
But at least now, when I look back on that night, I can take comfort in the fact that I tried.