The mask’s opposite is not the face but the veil. The mask, all actual, leaves nothing undisclosed; the veil is pure potential, a nothing which intimates. A veil shows nothing but the possibility of unveiling, a mask leaves nothing veiled. In the mask and the veil we find the two poles of the erotic, two relations to shame.
The Gods Show Up by Michael Kinnuchan
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𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜
𝙳𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚑
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i’m such a “i want your attention” but “won’t bother you” kinda person
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the fact that i'm no longer the same age as the protagonists of novels and films i once connected to is so heartbreaking. there was a time when I looked forward to turning their age. i did. and i also outgrew them. i continue to age, but they don't; never will. the immortality of fiction is beautiful, but cruel.
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"Absolutely no one comes to save us but us."
Ismatu Gwendolyn, "you've been traumatized into hating reading (and it makes you easier to oppress)", from Threadings, on Substack [ID'd]
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“Be it done unto me,” we used to say, hoping to be called by the right god. Isn’t that why we liked the story of how every two thousand years, a god descends. Leda’s pitiless swan. Then Gabriel announcing the new god and his kingdom of lambs—and now? What slouches
toward us?
[...]
What I want is what I’ve always wanted. What I want is to be changed.
Incarnadine by Mary Szybist
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A customer contacted our team with questions, and then finished their email with: "I am daunted by the complexities and unknowns." I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since.
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If you look into your own heart,
and you find nothing wrong there,
what is there to worry about?
What is there to fear?
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