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The trouble with being born

Admin: @TwoMonthsOff
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You gotta promise you won’t say anything
Cause this guy don’t dance
And the word’s been passed
What shall we tell the blind woman in Rilke’s poem who lamented that ‘I can no longer live with the sky upon me’? Would it comfort her if we told her we can no longer live with the earth underneath our feet?

— Emil Cioran, Tears and Saints.
Jacques Henri Lartigue · Florette, Paris (1944)
IRA
Ruins in the Tiergarten Quarter near Rousseau Island.
Berlin, 1947.
Actual happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with the overcompensations for misery. And, of course, stability isn't nearly so spectacular as instability. And being contented has none of the glamour of a good fight against misfortune, none of the picturesqueness of a struggle with temptation, or a fatal overthrow by passion or doubt. Happiness is never grand.

— Aldous Huxley