the great majority of people does not consider it contemptible to believe this or that and to live accordingly, without first having given themselves an account of the final and most certain reasons pro and con, and without even troubling themselves about such reasons afterward: [---] But what is goodheartedness, refinement or genius to me, when the person who has these virtues tolerates slack feelings in his faith and judgments and when he does not account the desire for certainty as his inmost craving and deepest distress [----] (Nietzsche)
Be as a bird perched on a frail branch that she feels bending beneath her, still she sings away all the same, knowing she has wings. (Victor Hugo)
All the forces in the world are not so powerful as an idea whose time has come. (Victor Hugo)
- slack (adj.)
- O.E. slæc "loose, careless" (in ref. to personal conduct), from P.Gmc. *slakas (cf. O.S. slak, O.N. slakr, O.H.G. slah "slack," M.Du. lac "fault, lack"), from PIE base *(s)leg- "to be slack" (see lax). Sense of "not tight" (in ref. to things) is first recorded c.1300. The verb is attested from 1520; slacken (v.) first recorded 1580. Slack-key (1975) translates Hawaiian ki ho'alu First record of slack-jawed (1901) is in Kipling. Slack water "time when tide is not flowing" is from 1769. Slacker popularized 1994, though meaning "person who shirks work" dates back to 1898.
- slack (n.)
- 1794, "loose part or end" (of a rope, sail, etc.), from slack (adj.); hense fig. senses in take up the slack (1930) and slang cut (someone) some slack (1968). Meaning "quiet period, lull" is from 1851.
in conclusion
it is not 1851, i am not quiet. i am too loud. i am high maintenance but i have not squeaked enough. i need grease.
my parents never listened to me, or did i just not complain? i really believed for most of those years that everything was fine. then i realized it wasn't fine, and i ran away. then i came back, they want me to act as if everything is always fine so that they have one less opportunity to contemplate how it is not. i am unwilling, but i am unable to make it better by pointing out how unfine it is. it seems best to be silent. i cannot tell my other family as she will tell them how i said it was not fine as if we all any of us have ever believed it was. as if it is wrong, unfair, unloving to state the obvious. i do not understand.
i would not leave you alone. i worried you might feel alone, i let you know i was here. i would not find it hard to make you not feel alone if someone else was lonely too, i would balance. i might make a mistake but i would try. i would not leave you alone.
i would not ask you to worry about me when worrying is all you've done.
but i won't let you not. i am alone, i am not always fine. i don't want to care about you anymore. i won't. i mean it.
i will put my name on this, and this and this. and it may be a new name and in taking pains to place my name on it i might miss this and this and this. but it will be mine, and they will know it is mine and the time spent making it mine may make it less ours, and for us, but i will own it and you will know it. you will know you were not part of it.
after centuries of evolution (?) (?!), society (culture, what have you) is at a state wherein one of its individuals (biproducts, what have you) might seek out sexual stimulation on the internet as is becoming commonplace in said society at this time. after discovering a heightened sense of connection with the author's ability to weave sentiment and sexuality to such an extent it best encapsulates the sense of spirituality wherein said individual currently chooses to experience their sexuality, it is concluded that there is very little prospect of appropriately conveying and sharing the experience of said connection with any human being which whom said individual has shared sexual relations, ever. as a result, said individual could, as is commonplace in said society at this time, be motivated to share said connection with strangers on said internet. to what end?
my parents never listened to me, or did i just not complain? but i do remember they told me time and time again "don't talk back". i hated it, mainly i did not understand. how could my understanding evolve if i was not allowed to talk back, to ask questions, to get answers?
i keep trying to understand you. i don't want to understand you anymore. i won't. i mean it.
i'm not fourteen, as much as i want and tend to experience the positives and negatives of life as such. but i've been cut too much slack.
nonsense is one of the most understandable words in any langauge.
my parents never listened to me, or did i just not complain? i really believed for most of those years that everything was fine. then i realized it wasn't fine, and i ran away. then i came back, they want me to act as if everything is always fine so that they have one less opportunity to contemplate how it is not. i am unwilling, but i am unable to make it better by pointing out how unfine it is. it seems best to be silent. i cannot tell my other family as she will tell them how i said it was not fine as if we all any of us have ever believed it was. as if it is wrong, unfair, unloving to state the obvious. i do not understand.
i would not leave you alone. i worried you might feel alone, i let you know i was here. i would not find it hard to make you not feel alone if someone else was lonely too, i would balance. i might make a mistake but i would try. i would not leave you alone.
i would not ask you to worry about me when worrying is all you've done.
but i won't let you not. i am alone, i am not always fine. i don't want to care about you anymore. i won't. i mean it.
i will put my name on this, and this and this. and it may be a new name and in taking pains to place my name on it i might miss this and this and this. but it will be mine, and they will know it is mine and the time spent making it mine may make it less ours, and for us, but i will own it and you will know it. you will know you were not part of it.
after centuries of evolution (?) (?!), society (culture, what have you) is at a state wherein one of its individuals (biproducts, what have you) might seek out sexual stimulation on the internet as is becoming commonplace in said society at this time. after discovering a heightened sense of connection with the author's ability to weave sentiment and sexuality to such an extent it best encapsulates the sense of spirituality wherein said individual currently chooses to experience their sexuality, it is concluded that there is very little prospect of appropriately conveying and sharing the experience of said connection with any human being which whom said individual has shared sexual relations, ever. as a result, said individual could, as is commonplace in said society at this time, be motivated to share said connection with strangers on said internet. to what end?
my parents never listened to me, or did i just not complain? but i do remember they told me time and time again "don't talk back". i hated it, mainly i did not understand. how could my understanding evolve if i was not allowed to talk back, to ask questions, to get answers?
i keep trying to understand you. i don't want to understand you anymore. i won't. i mean it.
i'm not fourteen, as much as i want and tend to experience the positives and negatives of life as such. but i've been cut too much slack.
nonsense is one of the most understandable words in any langauge.
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