#mothwine

The funny thing is that if I were a phenomenologist it would be very, very easy for me to become a philosopher of math, and vice versa. In math you're always explaining the same three or four things in new ways, and in phenomenology you're arguing about the same three or four issues using different words, and this makes the job of inventing the words much easier.

and so many more! there are tons of writers on here that i love reading work from!

ouch ok in no particular order1.) "One More Night" - Noah and the Whale (or literally any of their love songs who are we kidding this list could totally just be 5 of their songs)2.) "Close Your Eyes and Count to Ten" - Grouplove3.) "We Can't Be Friends" - Lorene Scafaria4.) "Ramona" - Night Beds5.) "Samson" - Regina Spektorbut that's just for right now, they change pretty often!! 

The best I can think to answer this is with my time in Japan.  I landed an idealist, and I could feel it slipping away from the moment I stepped off the plane.  It was late, and I had been up for 20 hours.  I couldn’t read anything.  I didn’t know where to go.  The people who greeted me were so happy to see me, but I didn’t much care to see them.  I wanted a bed.I got on a bus.  To get in a cab. To get to the monolithic gray building where I would live.  I went to my room.  The man who led me there chastised me for not taking off my shoes - in my own apartment.  The pillow was filled with buckwheat.  I slept on my folded up coat.  It rained the next day, and I went to a meeting of all the new students.  I was shunned by the other English speakers, and made no new friends.  In the lobby, I met a beautiful girl from Australia, but it was raining and I was down.  I still remember her.  Inika.  I need to find her, and tell her how I fell in love with her at a glance and how sharing my pain with her and sharing her pain with me helped me in that cold wet place.  But how do I find a pretty blond girl in Australia.  It’s so big.  Inika - if you read this, and you remember going to NUFS in Nisshin city with the sad shaved-head boy who left early, please contact me so I can thank you.The days dragged on.  I became more and more alone.  I had nothing to occupy me but the Dark Tower series.  This did not help my stability.  I began to feel as though something bad was looming.  I began to feel as though I would die far from home.  Far from my sandy dry sun baked city.The dread grew, as I dreamed dreams of death and dying and I could only quiet my restless mind by walking the streets.  I walked so many miles my feet blistered and my legs cramped.  The voices started to remind me that I would die in this foreign place regularly.  I knew that I must die there. The voices told me that going to Japan was the biggest mistake of my life. And then, clear as a FUCKING bell, one day, a new voice.  And it said just this: Men have recovered from bigger mistakes.  And so my mind set.  I would leave.  I would abandon fifteen thousand dollars of schooling and simply leave.  I flew home the next day.  The dread was there with me, for months.  I would dream of being back, that I had never left.  I dreamt of dying there, in the streets of Nagoya.  Alone in the tiny apartment.  And thus, I suppose, I am lucky.  I had the dread of the fall, but never fell.  At least not in the way I expected to.  And I learned from it.  I never, NEVER, look down on someone now for being unable to speak the language of my land.  I never chastise people for shooting too high and failing.  I remember what it was like to be alone.  And I realized that the Inikas of the world can hold me together when I fall apart.  To my Inikas: I love you.  I love you Australian Inika.  I love you Wild One Inika.  I love you Sparrow Inika.  I love you Ally and Ally Inikas.  I love you Misty Inika.  I love you Fearless Hunter Inika.  I love you all my beautiful life-savers.  Thank you.