Highbrowandbeard

Beards, Books, Buddhism.
  • tumblr gays: i just want someone to fuck me raw
  • tumblr gays: i wanna suck a thousand dicks
  • tumblr gays: hmu daddies
  • anon: id fuck you
  • tumblr gays: go to church *disgusted reaction gif*

Speaking of Reed, Laurie Anderson’s account in Rolling Stone of her 21 years with him and seeing him through his death was the most moving thing I read this week. A notable thing here is that Reed met Anderson when he was fifty. One of the biggest wastes on the planet, I think, is the mythology of “older” people as already happened to, already complete, already fading, already done. Probably my favorite thing about the literary world (and certainly the same could be said in any arts community) is this view being less prevalent, and it being more widely understood and embraced that people are always evolving, changing, connecting and becoming. This wasn’t true in the neighborhood where I grew up, and for a long time I believed that was due to poverty and lack of education, but that wasn’t the only reason. Now I live in an educated urban neighborhood where most people have enough money to take good vacations and rehab their homes and all that…yet there still seems to be a prevailing view that after a certain point people are “set,” they “stop,” the younger generation becomes immensely more vital and important and interesting, and older adults retreat to background noise. Admittedly in my old hood, “older” often meant 28 or 30. Girls had babies at 15 or 18 or 20 and by the time they were 30 they were burnt out and wearing house dresses on the front porch chowing on coffee cake, knowing everyone they were ever going to know. Where I live now, that age bar is higher, quite a bit higher, but you still hear forty-year-old women talking about the fact that their lives aren’t all that fulfilling but they’re fine with that because they’re happy to “sacrifice” for their kids; you hear women saying why not just wear the granny panties, fuck it, who’s looking anyway, they’re done. I’m all for the liberation of granny panties if that’s what floats someone’s boat–it’s not about forcing women to stay on the Sexy Treadmill forever; that’s not what I mean. My father-in-law got married in July at the age of 72. I once had a 78 year old student in a class I taught at Northwestern. Reed and Anderson lived an entire life together that didn’t begin until he was half a century old. Being done is always a choice, but it’s treated like a fact. Why only live until a certain age bracket–why not live until you’re…not alive anymore?

  • Excited by the future. Idealistically, and maybe naively, hoping that I may do something that may help people in some way.

Anxiety, nightmares and a nervous breakdown, there’s only so many traumas a person can withstand until they take to the streets and start screaming.

Blue Jasmine (2013)

(Source: imdb.com, via introspectivepoet)