it is all chaos and entropy. the thing is that the chaos and entropy make it beautiful and lovely.
yes, it's true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is terrifying. i have lived through some of the unfairness - i got born like this, with my body caving into itself, with this ironic love of dance when i sometimes can't stand up for longer than 15 minutes. i am a poet with hands that are slowly shutting down - i can't hold a pen some days. recently i found a dead bird on our front porch. she had no visible injuries. she had just died, the way things die sometimes.
it is also true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is wonderful. the sheer happenstance that makes rain turn into a rainbow. the impossible coincidence of finding your best friend. i have made so many mistakes and i have let myself down and i have harmed other people by accident. nature moves anyway. on the worst day of my life she delivers me an orange juice sunset, as if she is saying try again tomorrow.
how vast and unknowing the universe! how small we are! isn't that lovely. the universe has given us flowers and harp strings and the shape of clouds. how massive our lives are in comparison to a grasshopper. the world so bright, still undiscovered. even after 30 years of being on this earth, i learned about a new type of animal today: the dhole.
chance echoing in my life like a harmony between two people talking. do you think you and i, living in different worlds but connected through the internet - do you think we've ever seen the same butterfly? they migrate thousands of miles. it's possible, right?
how beautiful the ways we fill the vastness of space. i love that when large amounts of people are applauding in a room, they all start clapping at the same time. i love that the ocean reminds us of our mother's heartbeat. i love that out of all the colors, chlorophyll chose green. i love the coincidences. i love the places where science says i don't know, but it just happens.
"the universe doesn't care about you!" oh, i know. that's okay. i care about the universe. i will put my big stupid heart out into it and watch the universe feast on it. it is not painful. it is strange - the more love you pour into the unfeeling world, the more it feels the world loves you in return. i know it's confirmation bias. i think i'm okay if my proof of kindness is just my own body and my own spirit.
i buried the bird from our porch deep in the woods. that same day, an old friend reaches out to me and says i miss you. wherever you go, no matter how bad it gets - you try to do good.
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I jokingly thought before that reading Junie B. Jones as a kid turned me into a feminist, but unironically, it kind of did.
I honestly think it comes down to the fact that Junie B. was not only allowed to be "weird," but her character arc never concluded like other girl characters would. In other media featuring "weird girls," the girl always ended her arc tamed - by force or convince, she would be prettied up, she would smile and be polite, and she would never speak out of turn. She would be perfect then, and would shed her veneer of individuality with the freedom that is conformity. As a kid, I noticed that girls weren't permitted to be "weird" like boys were. So when I read Junie B. Jones, I loved that she was frankly just fucking weird. She said things out of turn, she was rambunctious and imaginative and she was a realistic portrayal of a little girl. I loved reading those books because the narrative taught her lessons without punishing her for being weird, if that makes sense. So often, narratives punished weird girls for the crime of being a socially unacceptable girl, not for any true wrongdoing like lying.
Anyway, I just think it's interesting, because I watched and read a ton of books and shows and movies featuring girls and women, but none of them truly empathized with (or even tried to empathize with) weird girls on their own merits and capabilities and terms, or embraced the idea of a "socially inept/unacceptable" girl without punishing her in some way for her supposed ineptitude.
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The sweater says "collects comic books" and the face says "collects phone numbers"
The Guardian Weekend (2006)
Transcript:
Hi, I'm David-in-my-pants," says the very boyish, handsome 34-year-old striding towards me, arm extended, wearing, as promised, his underpants. Perhaps the train journey from London to Cardiff was worth it after all.
"I just don't have the courage of my convictions about my fashion decisions-I think I need some guidance there," he adds in his charming Scottish accent, his eyes all characteristically puppyish and pleading. Yes, the trip is definitely worth it so far.
This fashion insecurity is a bit surprising, though, seeing as it comes from David Tennant, the tenth and latest Dr Who (he's in Cardiff filming the newseries) and, according to the Pink Paper, "the sexiest man in the universe" (Tennant claimed, sweetly, that he was "somewhat surprised" by that accolade.)
When playing the title role in the BBC's widely acclaimed Casanova, Tennant wore flouncy blouses with aplomb; and his outfit for Dr Who English tweeds paired with scruffy Converse - has already received plaudits from the fashion press. "It's not a million miles from what I usually wear," he says, "so I now have to be careful if people see me out and about looking too much like Dr. Who, that would be pretty naff."
The Converse were inspired by Tennant himself - he's been devoted to the brand for more than 20 years - so when I tell him that David Cameron wears them, too, he reels back into the sofa, aghast "No!" he whispers. "You`ve just ruined them for me.
He insists that becoming a recognised face has not changed his style, but has made him more conscious that he shouldn't wear something more than once because people comment on it. This, naturally, means constant wardrobe updates, which rather goes against a Presbyterian upbringing "that would never permit any conspicuous consumption."
Tennant's teenage years were a swamp of fashion mistakes, he says, citing in particular a pink jumper that we wore for years until someone told him that it was, well, terrible. And at 15 he sported a paisley shirt, skinny tie and cropped jacket combo that "properly expressed myself" - unfortunately, his tracksuit-wearing peers disagreed and punched him in the face. "Yeah, that didn't work out too well."
He is, he says repeatedly, not a shopper. "I do that typical male thing of finding one thing and doing it to death, like Paul Smith suits." He recently discovered H&M, he adds, enunciating each of the letters carefully, as if tentatively speaking in a new language. "Plain T-shirts for only a tuppence."
Yet despite all of this he seems at ease during the shoot. He particularly likes a tan jumper, which prompts him to stroke his hands over his chest in a most distracting manner. "I love this - what is it?"
Burberry, comes the answer.
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