whats my gender, you ask? *i turn and continue to pick up cool rocks. im never going to answer your question*

Those who are against Fascism without being against capitalism, who lament over the barbarism that comes out of barbarism, are like people who wish to eat their veal without slaughtering the calf. They are willing to eat the calf, but they dislike the sight of blood. They are easily satisfied if the butcher washes his hands before weighing the meat. They are not against the property relations which engender barbarism; they are only against barbarism itself. They raise their voices against barbarism, and they do so in countries where precisely the same property relations prevail, but where the butchers wash their hands before weighing the meat.
― Bertolt Brecht (via 1109-83)
Gaslighting is the systematic attempt by one person to erode another’s reality. This is done by telling them that what they have experienced isn’t so – and, the gradual giving up on the part of the other person.
― Robin Stern (via elizabitchtaylor)
I take great care of myself by carefully shutting myself away
― Vincent Van Gogh in a letter to his brother, Theo. [letter]  (via mirroir)

(Quelle: hellray)

The temporal structure of the subject is chiasmic: in the place of a substantial or self-determining “subject,” this juncture of discursive demands is something like a “crossroads,” to use Gloria Anzaldua’s phrase, a crossroads of cultural and political discursive forces, which she herself claims cannot be understood through the notion of the “subject.” There is no subject prior to its constructions; it is always the nexus, the non-space of cultural collision, in which the demand to resignify or repeat the very terms which constitute the “we” cannot be summarily refused, but neither can they be followed in strict obedience. It is the space of this ambivalence which opens up the possibility of a reworking of the very terms by which subjectivation proceeds—and fails to proceed.
― Judith Butler, Bodies That Matter (via heteroglossia)
Of course, you never really forget anyone, but you certainly release them. You stop allowing their history to have any meaning for you today. […] The person you knew exists somewhere, but you are separated by too much time to reach them again.
― Chelsea Fagan, How We Let People Go

(Quelle: 366quotes)