You find reasons to keep living Life is suffering. It is hard. The world is cursed. But still, you find reasons to keep living. Hayao Miyazaki, Princess Mononoke Prometheus sufferinghopelife
The modern infrastructural ideal The form and possibility of the "modern infrastructural ideal" is increasingly under threat, as cracks (sometimes literal ones) show up in our bridges, our highways, our airports, and the nets of our social welfare systems. For these and other reasons, broken world thinking asserts that breakdown, dissolution, and change, rather than innovation, development, or design as conventionally practices and thought about are the key themes and problems facing new media and technology scholarship today. Attached to this, however, comes a second and more hopeful approach: namely, a deep wonder and appreciation for the ongoing activities by which stability (such as it is) is maintained, the subtle arts of repair by which rich and robust lives are sustained against the weight of centrifugal odds, and how sociotechnical forms and infrastructures, large and small, get not only broken but restored, one not-so-metaphoric brick at a time. Steven J. Jackson, Rethinking Repair How Buildings Learn infrastructurehope
500 Days of Summer A Film by Marc Webb, Scott Neustadter & Michael H. Weber www.imdb.com I think you should look againIt just wasn't me you were right about lovemelancholyhope
Finding nourishment vs. identifying poison An Article by Austin Kleon & Olivia Laing austinkleon.com A useful analogy for what [Sedgwick] calls ‘reparative reading’ is to be fundamentally more invested in finding nourishment than identifying poison. This doesn’t mean being naive or undeceived, unaware of crisis or undamaged by oppression. What it does mean is being driven to find or invent something new and sustaining out of inimical environments. I would like to adopt that line as a mission statement: “To be fundamentally more invested in finding nourishment rather than identify poison.” Because you can identify all the poison you want, but if you don’t find nourishment, you’ll starve to death. Poison sniffers hopereadinggoodness
A little act of hope A Fragment by Jeremy Keith adactio.com As I scroll down my “on this day” page, I come across more and more dead links that have been snapped off from the fabric of the web. If I stop and think about it, it can get quite dispiriting. Why bother making hyperlinks at all? It’s only a matter of time until those links break. In a sense, every hyperlink on the World Wide Web is little act of hope. Even though I know that when I link to something, it probably won’t last, I still harbour that hope. If hyperlinks are built on hope, and the web is made of hyperlinks, then in a way, the World Wide Web is quite literally made out of hope. I like that. And thus the heart will break hypermediahope
The Collected Poems of Emily Dickinson A Poetry Collection by Emily Dickinson www.goodreads.com The brain is wider than the skyThe brain within its grooveWhat if I say I shall not wait?The CaspianWe outgrow love+3 More
The brain is wider than the sky The brain is wider than the sky, For, put them side by side, The one the other will include With ease, and you beside. The brain is deeper than the sea, For, hold them, blue to blue, The one the other will absorb, As sponges, buckets do. The brain is just the weight of God, For, lift them, pound for pound, And they will differ, if they do, As syllable from sound. The Art of Looking Sidewaysthe speed of God wordsthinkingcognition
The brain within its groove The brain within its groove Runs evenly and true; But let a splinter swerve, T'were easier for you To put the water back When floods have slit the hills, And scooped a turnpike for themselves, And blotted out the mills! insanitymind
What if I say I shall not wait? What if I say I shall not wait? What if I burst the fleshly gate And pass, escaped, to thee? waitingdeath
The Caspian The Caspian has its realms of sand, Its other realm of sea; Without the sterile perquisite No Caspian could be. beautybalance
We outgrow love We outgrow love like other things And put it in the drawer, Till it an antique fashion shows Like costumes grandsires wore. lovemelancholy
I died for beauty I died for beauty, but was scarce Adjusted in the tomb, When one who died for truth was lain In an adjoining room. He questioned softly why I failed? "For beauty," I replied. "And I for truth, — the two are one; We brethren are," he said. beautytruth
The morning after death The bustle in a house The morning after death Is solemnest of industries Enacted upon earth,— The sweeping up the heart, And putting love away We shall not want to use again Until eternity. death
Because I could not stop for Death Because I could not stop for Death, He kindly stopped for me; The carriage held but just ourselves And Immortality. timedeath