Semantic Aphasia

A contemplation of communication in all of it's forms, and an attempt to reconcile my educational and social influences into a coherent whole.

Self-control

There is a model of self-control in the psychology literature which proposes that it’s a limited resource: We have a certain amount which we use up throughout the day, decreasing our ability to exercise it on subsequent tasks, and then, somehow, it rebounds and we start at the beginning again.


I have a feeling that if I looked at the peaks and valleys of my expressiveness it would follow the same trajectory as this model proposes. For the most part I am extremely controlled: I make a conscious effort to remain unemotional and nonreactive. Eventually, though, the self-control keeping this in place erodes, and all of my emotions are expressed in one exhalation.
Then, eventually, the feeling passes: I can compose myself, and the cycle is complete.

I can’t exactly describe how I feel but it’s not quite right. And it leaves me cold.

—F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Love of the Last Tycoon (via audreylostinparis)

(Source: larmoyante, via starmaps)

cat power-the greatest

sahremina:

yann tiersen,la valse d’amelie

9-year-old explains the meaning of life

crittters:

divine-hatred:

reasons not to have kids:

  • the seventh grade emo phase
  • the seventh grade emo phase
  • the seventh grade emo phase
  • the seventh grade emo phase
  • the seventh grade emo phase
  • the seventh grade emo phase

Omg

(Source: agnosia)

Apology

sor•ry (ˈsɒr i, ˈsɔr i)

adj. -ri•er, -ri•est.

1. feeling regret, compunction, sympathy, pity, etc.
2. regrettable or deplorable; unfortunate: a sorry situation.
3. sorrowful; grieved.
4. suggestive of grief; melancholy.
5. wretched, poor, or useless.
6. (used interjectionally as a conventional apology)
 
 
I’m sorry.

If you can’t fly then run, if you can’t run then walk, if you can’t walk then crawl, but whatever you do you have to keep moving forward.

—Martin Luther King Jr.

In my mind I am eloquent; I can climb intricate scaffolds of words to reach the highest cathedral ceilings and paint my thoughts. But when I open my mouth, everything collapses.

—Warm Bodies by Isaac Marion  (via fleurstains)

(Source: uponswallows, via mysloppyfirsts)